Life of an Assassin
by Disgruntled Teddybear
Summary: A girl, raised by Death Eaters, is sent into Hogwarts on a mission. Little does she know, her life is about to change when she finds love, friends, and the truth about her past, and what Voldemort did to her...
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: All the characters and Harry Potter are J.K Rowling's and not mine

Chapter 1 

There was a flash of green light. A woman screamed. Her black curls tumbled around her face, golden eyes wide as she looked down at her husband. Then another flash of light and she too, crumpled to the ground- dead. A black hooded figure came closer, closer…

Pasha Mayes woke up with a gasp. Cold sweat trickled down her back, chilling her. She shivered. She hated those dreams. They made her feel weak and vulnerable. She hated being weak. Her golden, catlike eyes surveyed her room. _No better than a dungeon, _she thought to herself. The cold stonewalls pressed close around her like a cell. Cobwebs and dust gathered in corners. The sunrays trickling in through the small window told her that it was morning. Pasha heaved herself out of bed, her muscles aching from yesterdays training. She slipped into some warmer robes and went on to comb her hair. Brushing her hair always relaxed her. She didn't know why but there was just something comforting about the way the comb skimmed through her hair, caressing her black locks. There was a knock on the rotting wooden door.

"What?" she asked rudely. She was _not_ a morning person.

"The master wishes to see you."

Pasha set the comb down and padded over to the door. A short, balding man peered up at her with watery, blood-shot eyes. His rat-like face radiated dislike.

"Can you do me a favor Wormtail?" she asked sweetly. "Could you go tell him to hang on for a few minutes, 'cause I'm kind of in the middle of something."

Wormtail whimpered. Her knew he could tell him no such thing. "He wishes to see you right away."

Pasha sighed, "well, if he must."

She followed Wormtail as he lead the way through the various corridors and hallways, finally stopping in front of a pair of ornate wooden doors. Pasha knocked.

"Enter," said a cold voice from within.

She went in. It was a large room. Much more decorative and luxurious compared to hers. There was a fire crackling in the stone fireplace. Heavy red velvet drapes hung behind the person sitting in the gilded chair.

"Pasha. You have been my student for fifteen years, ever since your parents were murdered. You were just a year old weren't you?"

Hate boiled up within her, hate for the man who had killed her parents. She gritted her teeth.

The light from the fire danced on the persons pale face, illuminating his snakelike features. He studied her with wide, red eyes and smiled, knowing he had touched a nerve.

"_Crucio_," said Voldemort, pointing his wand at her.

Excruciating pain shot through her body. She wanted to scream, to cry for mercy, but she knew it would be pointless. She must stay silent. She was bent over in pain, squeezing her eyes shut. She must not make a sound. The pain abruptly ended. Pasha let out a moan.

"Impressive. Now for your final test. Let us see if you have the nerve, and the will to complete your mission." Voldemort waved his wand at the door, causing it to swing open. "Bring him in."

Two Death Eaters dragged a struggling man into the room. His frightened eyes flicked around the room. "Master!" he begged. "Please forgive me!"

Voldemort looked down at him in disgust. "Too late for that, Renwold. You betrayed me, and you know what happens to traiters."

Renwold sobbed. He knew all too well.

Voldemort gave Pasha a look, nodding. She didn't know if she could do this, if she could perform an Unforgivable Curse.

"He murdered your parents. Stole your childhood. What are you going to do about it?" Voldemort hissed when she hesitated.

She knew the man trembling before her wasn't the man who had killed her parents, but hate boiled up just the same. "_Crucio."_

Renwold screamed. Rage coursed through her, coursed through every nerve. Hate blazed in her golden eyes. He writhed on the ground, shrieking in pain. _Pathetic, _she thought. Pasha lowered her wand when Voldemort raised his hand. Renwold lay panting on the ground. He gave her a look. She knew what that meant. She felt sorry for Renwold, but she had to do it if she wanted to get her revenge. And in order to do that, she had to prove herself to the Dark Lord.

"_Avada Kedavra!"_

Blinding green light shot out of her wand, heading towards the man twitching on the ground. In an instant, he lay still. He would never rise again. Tears threatened to rise up as she felt the lump in her throat. She _must_ not cry. She _must_ not cry. Crying was a sign of weakness.

Voldemort nodded. "You are ready."

Pasha felt no victory, no triumph. She stood silent.

"Draco Malfoy is also at Hogwarts. You are to help him."

Pasha recalled meeting Malfoy. She did not think much of him. She hated the way his eyes roved over her, inspecting her figure.

"And I suppose I do not need to remind you who your target is?"

Pasha nodded. "Albus Dumbledore."


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: all the characters belong to J.K Rowling and are not mine. However, Pasha Mayes is mine! Mwahahahahaha

**Chapter 2**

"Wake up boys, breakfast is ready. You better get up or we're going to miss the train."

Harry Potter jolted awake. _That was Mrs. Weasley's voice. What was Mrs. Weasley doing at the Dursleys? _He looked around in confusion at the orange walls covered in posters of people whizzing around on broomsticks. The he remembered. He was at the Burrow. He was seventeen. He didn't have to live at the Dursleys anymore. He was _free. _

Harry's best friend, Ron, groaned from the bed on the opposite side of the room.

Mrs. Weasley's voice completely changed, "Ron! Stop complaining and get up now!" She slammed the door.

Harry rolled himself out of bed and began to get dressed. Ron reluctantly pushed himself off the bed and copied Harry.

Downstairs everyone was seated at the table, already helping themselves to servings of pancakes and buttery toast. Twins, Fred and George were there, arguing loudly over something about chicken flavored wands. Bill and Fleur, now married, were trying their best to ignore them and were having a private conversation. Ginny looked up as they entered.

"So where are you boys meeting Hermione?" Mrs. Weasley asked, referring to Harry's other best friend.

"Ah the shation," mumbled Ron, bits of egg and toast came flying out of his mouth.

"Ewww, gross Ron," exclaimed Ginny, as Ron's half chewed food landed on her arm.

Mrs. Weasley frowned in disapproval.

Ron swallowed and turned to Harry, "who do you think the Head Boys gonna be this year?"

Harry shrugged, "Dun no and don't care. As long as it isn't Malfoy."

They all knew who the Head Girl was. Hermione.

Ron shuddered, "I'd die of it was."

Mrs. Weasley peered out the window. "Ministry cars are here. Get your trunks ready."

Ron shoveled the rest of the food into his mouth, trying to finish the rest of his breakfast. Harry, not yet finished but full, went to get his trunk. Then he remembered. He could use magic.

"_Accio trunks."_

A second later, three big trunks came zooming down the stairs towards him but stopping just in front. Ginny gave him a envious look. Harry grinned.

"Thank you Harry," said Mrs. Weasley as she started to load them into the cars.

A woman with stepped out of the car. Her bubblegum pink hair shone brightly in the sun. "Wotcha Harry."

"Hey Tonks," he greeted.

Someone of the Order was always present when Harry was around. She and Lupin were married now.

"Hey Tonks. Congratulations," said Ginny, congratulating her on her wedding.

She grinned, obviously still ecstatic about it. "Thanks."

They all piled into the car after saying their goodbyes to Fred, George, Bill and Fleur. The car magically expanded to fit them all and they drove off towards Kings Cross Station.

The gleaming red train stood waiting, puffing out smoke impatiently.

"Harry! Ron!" called a voice from behind. Suddenly, Harry's vision was obscured by a mass of bushy brown hair as Hermione pulled him into a tight hug, doing the same to Ron.

"How were your holidays?" asked Harry.

"It was great," gushed Hermione. "We went all over Europe. France, Italy, Spain…" she trailed off as she looked at Harry's face. "Oh sorry Harry. Here I am going on about how great my holiday was when you were here worrying about… everything."

Harry shook his head, "there's nothing to apologize for. I've actually been ok, you now, considering…"

Harry had told Ron and Hermione about what the prophicy contained. The prophcy that said he either had to kill, or be killed.

Mrs. Weasley interrupted. "You better get on the train. It'll be leaving soon."

Ginny rushed back from greeting other friends and hugged Mrs. Weasley. "Bye Mum."

They all hugged her in turn and hopped on the train just as it started to roll forward. Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny, wandered to the back of the train looking for an empty compartment. One of the doors slid open and a round-faced boy stuck his head out.

"Harry! We saved seats for you guys."

"Oh hey Neville. Thanks."

The group trooped in and stowed their suitcases in the luggage rack. A girl with long, dirty blonde hair was already sitting in the compartment, her slightly protuberant eyes staring intently out the window.

"Hi Luna," said Ginny.

Luna shifted her gaze to them. "Hello," she said dreamily.

She went back to staring out the window.

Harry jumped when he saw someone else sitting at the corner of the compartment, already dressed in school robes. How could he have missed her? She had been sitting right there. Harry shrugged the thought off, he couldn't help noticing that she was very pretty. Her dark, glossy curls were pinned up pinned up but a few strands had managed to work their way out and tumble down. Her face had a kind of exotic, feline look to it. What stood out the most about her were her eyes. She had golden, cat-like eyes. Harry had never seen eyes like hers. He realized he was staring and forced himself to look away as he settled down into his seat. He glanced quickly at her again. He wondered if she was a first-year. She didn't _look_ like a first year, but Harry had never seen her around the school before. He gave Neville a questioning look, as if to say _Who is she?_ Neville shook his head. He didn't know.

"Hi, I'm Hermione," Hermione said.

"Pasha," the girl replied.

"I'm Ron," Ron hurriedly introduced.

Pasha gave him a nod of acknowledgement. Her eyes turned to Harry.

"Harry. Harry Potter," he offered.

Her eyes flicked to his forehead, as he knew they would. But unlike other people when meeting him for the first time, she did not seem awed by him. Or excited, or even surprised. Her face showed no emotion.

"So what year are you going in to? You don't look like a first year," Hermione asked.

"Seventh."

"Do you know what House you're going to be in?" questioned Ron.

"Slytherin."

Everyone in the compartment exchanged looks. To his surprise, Harry was disappointed. But why should he be? No one asked any more questions and the rest of the trip was done in silence.

Sorry. This chapter is a litlle boring. but...

REVIEW please. You dont know how depressing it is to log on and find no reviews. Wahhhhhhhhhh


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I own nothing

Chapter 3 

Pasha stood in the line of first-years, towering over them as they fidgeted nervously, waiting for their names to be called. She looked over the sea of students, her eyes falling lastly on the Slytherin table. She knew the sorting was a waste of time on her, she already knew what house it would put her in. Her thoughts drifted back to when she was on the train. She had met Harry Potter. She had almost snorted when she had seen him. He was a tall, bespectacled boy with messy black hair. He looked just like any other teenager. How could he have defeated the Dark Lord? She couldn't understand.

"Liza, Richard." A stern looking witch in emerald green robes read the names off a long list of parchment.

A sandy-haired boy stumbled out of the line and plopped himself on the stool, jamming a pointy old hat on his head. A slit opened at the brim of the hat, forming a mouth.

"_RAVENCLAW!"_

A cheer rose up from one of the long tables in the middle, welcoming the new boy to their House. Richard Liza scurried to his table.

"Mitchell, Penny."

Another pink-faced first year shuffled to the stool.

"_HUFFLEPUFF!"_

More applause.

"Mayes, Pasha."

Whispering broke out as she strode forward.

"_She's _not a first-year"

"Who is she?"

"She hot!"

Pasha gritted her teeth as her sensitive hearing heard the last comment.

As she sat down on the small, three legged stool, she could see the Slytherins poised to clap. Malfoy had probably told them about her. She placed the hat on her head.

"_GRYFFINDOR!"_

Pasha started towards the Slytherin table before she realized that the noise was coming from the other end of the Great Hall. She turned, a look of confusion crossing her face before that, too, was gone, becoming blank once more. She made her way to the Gryffindor table and spied for a spare seat. She found one, and sat down.

"Hi," said the boy next to her.

It was Harry Potter.

"Hey."

"I thought you were going to be in Slytherin."

"I thought so too."

"I'm starving," exclaimed the red-headed boy named Ron.

"Ron, you're always starving," retorted Hermione.

He opened his mouth to argue when Dumbledore stood up. All heads turned towards the staff table at the front. Dumbledore's silver beard shone in the light as his bright blue eyes swept over them through half-moon glasses. Hate boiled up in her. Pasha tightened her restraint on her anger, trying to keep it from showing on her face. She would have her revenge soon enough.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," announced Dumbledore, spreading his arms. "Welcome to new students and to those returning. Enjoy the feast."

The gold plates in front of them suddenly filled up with food. Ron's hand quickly darted out and grabbed a drumstick. Pasha had never seen this much delicious food before. All she had ever eaten was bread and water; the Dark Lord and his followers were no chefs. She had to restrain herself from scoffing down everything at once, so she grabbed a drumstick and nibbled on it in a more dignified manner than Ron.

Near the end of the feast, she saw Malfoy trying to catch her attention from the other side of the Hall. He stood, motioning for her to follow him. Pasha stood reluctantly. She wanted to finish her cheesecake. She was immediately horrified by this thought. She was here on a mission, not to eat!

"Where are you going?" asked Harry.

"Bathroom," she lied.

"Oh."

She could see Malfoy now waving frantically from the other end of the Hall, near the doors leading into the front entrance. She quickly made her way towards him, not stopping in front of him but walking straight past him and into the Entrance where no one would be able to see them.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" she said angrily, turning on him. "Do you _want _us to get caught? We can't be seen together or they'll think something's up. Try something a little less subtle next time than waving your frickin arms in the air!"

Pasha never liked showing anyone what she felt or showing any emotion, but this was really important to her. This was something she had been training all her life for, and Malfoy was _not _going to ruin it for her.

"Whoa, someone's in a mood," he said, grinning.

"Did you hear _anything _I just said?" Pasha couldn't believe she had to work with him. She could handle it easily on her own. Malfoy would just slow her down.

"We can't discuss anything right now," she said, "I'll meet you in the forest tomorrow midnight."

"The Forbidden Forest?"

"Yeah. Are there any others around here?"

"But why the Forest?" he asked nervously.

"What's the matter? Scared?"

"No. Of…of course not."

"Then what is it?" she said, smirking.

"Its just…" he said, scrabbling for a reason, "its so big. How are we going to find each other?"

"I'll find you. Just go deep into the forest."

"How?"

"Just be there," she said, ignoring his question.

Pasha glanced up as the doors to the Great Hall opened and students started to pour out. She quickly walked away from Malfoy and joined the Gryffindor crowd. She followed them up the marble staircase, along many corridors, and up more stairs until they came to a halt. At the very end of the corridor hung a portrait of a very fat woman in a pink silk dress.

"Password?" she said.

"Remembrall," said Hermione, her Head Girl badge glinting in the candlelight.

The portrait swung open to reveal a round hole in the wall. Pasha climbed through and found herself in the Gryffindor common room. It was a round, cosy looking room filled with squashy armchairs and a fire crackling merrily in the hearth. The others all went up into their dormitories while Pasha sank down into a comfortable armchair by the warm fire. Her thoughts drifted back to the dreams. She had been having the same dream over and over again quite recently. The Dark Lord had somehow known this and had helped her. He had given her a potion to drink every fortnight, saying it would keep the dreams at bay. They stopped immediately after but sometimes she forgot to take it and would see the woman screaming, see the flash of green light; the killing curse. She knew the woman was her mother, and the man on the ground, her father. And the hooded figure- the man who had murdered her parents, ruined her life. Albus Dumbledore.

Pasha's eyelids started to get heavier, so she stood and made her way up the staircase into the girls dormitory. She found that her suitcase had already been brought up and laid at the foot of a four-poster bed. There were three other beds in the room as well, their occupants chatting away, stopping when Pasha came in. Hermione was the only person she recognized.

"Hi," said Hermione who was sorting out her books, "I guess we're sharing a room."

"Yeah, guess so."

"Oh yeah, introductions. This is Parvati Patil," she said, pointing to a girl with long dark hair that hung all the way down her back, "and this is Lavender Brown"

A girl with a golden braid waved at her.

"Pasha Mayes,"Pasha introduced.

"So what school did you go to before?" asked Parvati.

"I didn't. I was homeschooled," Pasha lied.

"Homeschooled?" Parvati said in disbelief.

"Yeah. My parents taught me."

"Why did they decide to send you here?" asked Lavender.

She shrugged, "I don't know. I guess they thought it would be safer here since You-Know-Who's return and all."

"What kind of stuff did you learn?"

"Oh, you know, the usual." She said vaguely.

Lavender opened her mouth to ask more specifically but Pasha cut her off by turning and start rummaging in her trunk for her pajamas.

"I'm kind of tired now, better get to sleep. Don't want to be late on the very first day!"

Pasha climbed into her soft, warm bed. Never had a place been more inviting; much better than her bed at 'home' which was just an old mattress covered in rags. She didn't know why, but in her minds eye, she could see Harry's grinning face, just before she drifted off into a deep dreamless sleep.

Thats it for this chapter! Please please please review. even if its just a sentence ora word. PLEASE? big puppy dog eyes.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: All the characters from Harry Potter are property of J.K Rowling.

Thank you thank you thank you to all those people who reviewed! Yay! I love reviews. And there IS a reason that I keep describing Pasha as "feline-like" with "cat-like eyes." You'll find out later in the story.

Note: I think some of you guys are a bit confused at the moment. Sorry about that, I'll explain it to you. This book is set in Harry's seventh year of Hogwarts and lets just pretend that the HBP NEVER came out and that he had a normal sixth year. OK? I know, I know, kind of stupid. I should have set it in the sixth year but I cant be bothered changing it so... enjoy!

Chapter 4 

Harry, Ron and Hermione made their way to their first class of the year; Defense Against the Dark Arts. Harry's thoughts strayed back to the new girl, Pasha Mayes. He couldn't stop thinking about her. It wasn't that he liked her, how could it be? He had just met her the other day. No, that wasn't it. There was just something strange about her. Something about the way she moved with feline-like grace, the way her head sometimes perked up at noises Harry couldn't hear, the way she watched him with her golden eyes.

"Hey, did you hear? Bryce Jean was made Head Boy," Ron informed them.

"Who's that?" asked Harry. Not that he cared.

"I don't know, some guy in Ravenclaw."

"I wonder who the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher is?" wondered Hermione.

"As long as it isn't another Lockheart, I'm happy," muttered Ron.

They reached the classroom to find the new teacher awaiting them behind her desk. She was a young-looking woman. Her light brown hair barely brushed her shoulders.

The three took their seats. Harry was glad that they weren't doing the class with the Slytherins. He looked around and his heart sank with disappointment when he didn't see Pasha. _What am I doing? Why am I looking for her?_

"Well, I think that's everyone," said the teacher standing. "I am Professor Middleweek and I will be your Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher for the year."

Harry, Ron and Hermione all jumped at the sound of her voice, recognizing it immediately. Hermione turned to Harry, _Tonks?_ She mouthed. Harry nodded. It had to be. Professor Middleweek, or rather, Tonks, eyes twinkled when she saw their reaction.

The door to the classroom suddenly burst open and Pasha strode in.

"You're late," said Tonks.

"Sorry, I got a bit lost," she apologized as she sank down in the seat in front of Harry.

Tonks nodded, "make sure it doesn't happen again."

Harry could tell that she was having a hard time putting on the _strict teacher_ act.

"Everyone get out your books and turn to page fifty-one. We will be studying Unforgivable Curses. Now I understand that this class is already a bit informed on the subject? Who can tell me what the three Curses are then?"

As expected, Hermione's hand was the first to shoot up.

"Yes Her-" Tonks stopped herself when she realized that she wasn't supposed to know Hermione's name. "What is your name?"

"Hermione Granger. The three Unforgivable Curses are the Imperius curse, Cruciatus, and the Avada Kedavra."

"Very good. And does anybody know what the penalty is for anyone who performs one of these curses?"

Harry saw Pasha stiffen slightly as Tonks said this.

Hermione's hand shot up again.

"Yes, Miss Granger?"

"A life sentence to Azkaban."

"And who knows what you need for these to work properly?" and before Hermione had a chance to raise her hand again Tonks interjected, "why don't we let someone else answer this time Miss Granger."

Hermione blushed. Tonks pointed at Ron.

"Um, a wand?"

The class laughed. "Yes, but I was looking for something a little more specific," said Tonks with a smile. She pointed to Pasha. "How about you. Tell me your name first."

"Pasha Mayes."

"And do you know, Miss Mayes, what the answer is?"

Pasha hesitated, then answered. "You need the will and determination to do it. You have to have a want to really hurt the person."

Tonks nodded. The rest of the lesson went on like this, discussing the three curses. Harry could see Neville becoming increasingly nervous. His parents had been tortured to madness by Voldemort's Death Eaters using the Cruciatus curse. This gave Harry all the more reason to hate them even more than he already did.

The three of them stayed behind after class to talk to Tonks. Harry watched Pasha's black curls bob out of the classroom. Ron saw what he was doing and raised his eyebrows, grinning. Harry ignored him.

"Tonks! What are you doing here?" exclaimed Hermione as soon as everyone was out of the classroom.

"That's Professor Middleweek to you," said Tonks smiling. "Dumbledore wanted more people from the Order at Hogwarts, so I volunteered."

"That's great! So will we be your favorites?" asked Ron hopefully.

Tonks laughed, "I have to act like a normal teacher. No one can no about this. Do you hear? No one."

"Don't worry, we wont tell," reassured Hermione.

"So how was I? Was I believable?"

"Strictest teacher I've ever met."

Tonks grinned, "You better get going, wouldn't want to make you late for your next lesson."

Harry was a little annoyed at Dumbledore for thinking that he couldn't protect himself as much to make a person of the Order his teacher. But then again, who's to say that it was for his protection? It could be for the school in general.

Coming out of the classroom, Harry thought he saw someone standing around the corner. When he tried to peer closer, however, he couldn't see anything but the shadow made from a large, stone statue.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Pasha lay silent, listening to the gentle snores of the girls in her dormitory. She checked her watch, her keen eyesight making out the hands: midnight. When she was absolutely sure they were asleep, she silently slipped out of bed and out the door.

Making her way down into the school grounds, she transformed. She bent over on all fours, her hands and feet becoming big paws. Sleek black fur covered her body as she loped in graceful strides towards the Forbidden Forest. Pasha loved going out at night. The darkness was her element. She loved the way the moon lit everything in a pale ghostly glow. She slipped into the shadow of the Forest, scenting now for Malfoy. She could smell the stench of his fear. He hadn't gone very deep into the forest as she instructed, but that couldn't be helped. She saw him standing awkwardly in the middle of a clearing, his pale blonde hair shone in the moonlight. Pasha growled, just to scare him. She saw Malfoy jump and look in her direction. She moved off to the side, away from the direction where Malfoy was staring. She transformed again, and came up from behind him.

"Boo."

She smiled as he jumped again, looking at her.

"What were you looking at?" she asked, acting interested.

"I think there's something out there," he said nervously.

"Don't worry Malfoy. Ill protect you."

Malfoy scowled. "So why aren't you in Slytherin?" he asked.

"I don't know." Pasha had been wondering about that ever since the sorting. She was sure that she would get into Slytherin; not that she particularly wanted to, but still, it was the most obvious one. The Dark Lord must have something to do with it. Maybe he had done something to get her into Gryffindor so she could get to Dumbledore.

"So, do you have a plan?" she continued.

"Why do I have to think of it? Why don't you?" he said, making it obvious that he had no idea what he was doing.

Pasha shrugged, "I don't know. my orders were just to help you."

"Well, I don't know either," He crossed his arms, sounding more and more like a five-year-old. "I'm not doing all of the work."

"Well, we need to get him vulnerable somehow. Without his wand."

"How do we do that?"

"I don't know. Just think on it," and with that, she turned and slipped back into the shadow.

This was harder than Pasha thought it would be. She thought that she would be able to come into Hogwarts, get her revenge, and be out of there at least by the first day- today. But nothing was ever as easy as it seemed. She hardly ever saw Dumbledore. He wasn't at breakfast, lunch or dinner. Probably locked up in his office or out on 'Order' business. She wondered what the Order was. Pasha had stayed back after class to see what the trio, Harry, Hermione, and Ron possibly had to say to a new teacher they had just met. And the conversation had turned out very interesting. They had called Professor Middleweek, 'Tonks' who was from the Order. Pasha assumed that Order was some kind of organization against the Dark Lord. They had probably sent her to guard Harry Potter. But they need not worry about Harry getting hurt, at least not yet. He was the Dark Lord's. It was _Dumbledore_ that was going to need the protection.

Pasha transformed again, ignoring Malfoy who was calling for her to wait, as she made her way back to the castle.

-----------------------------------------------

The fire blazed in the stone fireplace, warming them. Harry and Ron were in the middle of a heated game of wizards chess; and Ron was winning. Hermione was frantically searching through piles of notes, adding this and that onto her already metre long Herbology essay. The first two days of seventh year had been tough on them, almost as much as the first. All the teachers had given them a ton of homework, including Tonks.

"You really should do your homework now," Hermione advised them.

"Relax Hermione, we'll catch up on it later," said Ron in a laidback way.

"Well don't come crying to me for help when it all piles up," she said with a sniff.

Ron cheered when he realized he had all of Harry's pieces cornered. "Won again!"

Harry groaned.

"Loser gets to pack up," said Ron cheerfully as he got up.

Harry started to pick up the pieces when he saw Pasha climbing through the portrait hole.

"Hey Pasha. Wanna play?" he asked, pointing to the board.

"You want to play with…me?" she asked, confused.

"Yeah."

She came over and sat in the chair opposite his.

"So, how do you play?"

You mean, you don't know how to play chess?"

She shook her head. Harry saw a slight sadness in her eyes. He asked no more and started to teach her the rules. Pretty soon, she was getting the hang of it and even beating him in a few games. They were soon talking and laughing like they were the best of friends. Harry liked her laugh. It was a velvety chuckle, the kind that made you want to make them laugh again and again, just to hear it one more time.

Pasha yawned.

"Tired?" he asked her.

"Yeah, a little bit. I think I'll go up to bed now."

Harry was disappointed. He had wanted to spend a little more time with her.

"Ok then. Goodnight."

"I think I'll go up to," said Hermione, picking up her books.

"Night."

"So, I guess you guys are friends now?" said Ron when they disappeared upstairs.

"Yeah. Guess so," said Harry happily.

**Note:**That second bit of the story was skipping straight to the THIRD day of Hogwarts. the day _after_ Pasha goes out to meet Malfoy. it says 'the first two days of school' because it means two days after the feast.

Anyways, please review! Cant you see im desperate?


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Harry couldn't sleep. He tossed and turned, finally getting up with a sigh. He crept to the windowsill, careful not to wake Ron and the others in the room. He looked out over the school grounds. Harry couldn't see much; only Hagrid's cabin and the wet grass glistening in the pale glow of the moon. The Forbidden Forest rose dark and ominous, hiding whatever may be lurking in its shadow. Then, he saw something. A black shape streaking towards the Forbidden Forest. Harry's heart leapt as he immediately recognized it. _Sirius._ But no, Sirius was dead. His gut felt heavy as the realization hit him. The shadow did not look like a dog, more like a large cat. A very large cat. It had come from the direction of the castle, so it must have been inside. There was nowhere in front of Hogwarts it could possibly have come from. But if it had come from the castle, wouldn't he have seen it? How could he miss a creature that big? He would have to tell Hermione in the morning, she would know what it was.

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Pasha rummaged through her suitcase. "Shoot, where are you?" she muttered.

Digging her hand to the bottom of the trunk,she found what she was looking for and closed her fingers around it, pulling it out. It was a small, glass vial containing a bright yellow liquid. The potion the Dark Lord had given her to stop the dreams. She pulled the stopper out and held it over her head, letting a few drops fall into her mouth.

"What is that?" asked a voice behind her.

Pasha jumped, quickly stoppering the vial. She scolded herself for letting her guard down. She turned to find Hermione looking curiously at the glass vial clutched in her hand.

"It's for my allergies," Pasha hurriedly explained. _Allergies?_ She could think of better excuses than that, but she couldn't do anything about it now.

"But allergy medicines aren't yellow," said Hermione, "I've never heard of- "

"It's an expensive one," said Pasha, cutting her off. "Really hard to get."

She could tell by Hermione's face that she didn't believe her, but to her relief, she let it drop.

"I just came up here to get a book I forgot," Hermione said, looking through the pile of books in her trunk. She found it and stood. "We have Potions first. You want to go?"

"Yeah."

Pasha grabbed her bag and followed Hermione. The Potions class turned out to be, not a classroom, but a dungeon. It reminded her of her old bedroom, except that this room was lined with shelves and shelves of weird looking liquids and knick-knacks. Deadly looking knick-knacks.

Harry was already there, Pasha noted. She thought back fondly to last night. She had been surprised when he had asked her to come over. No one had ever done that before. And the way he made her laugh. She had never laughed like that her whole life. In fact, she was pretty sure she had _never _laughed.

"Hi," Harry greeted her as she sat down.

"Hi."

Pasha realized that they were with the Slytherins. She could see Malfoy at the back, sitting with a girl who reminded Pasha of a pig, with her slightly upturned nose. The girl caught Malfoy sneaking glances at Pasha, and, in a jealous fit, made her way towards her.

"That's Pansy Parkinson," whispered Hermione as she came nearer. Pasha scoffed at her name.

"So you're the new girl," said Pansy scornfully.

"Yes."

"Are you a dirty mudblood too?" she asked with a sneer, glancing at Hermione.

"I'd rather be a _muggle_ than have my name be _Pansy._ So why don't you just go back to your seat, Piggy?" Pasha retorted. Ron snorted.

Pansy's face grew red and she opened her mouth to say something when the door burst open and a man with greasy black hair strode into the room, his long black cloak billowing out behind him. Pansy scurried back to her seat.

"And what is your name?" he asked.

"Pasha Mayes."

"_Sir"_

"Sir," Pasha added.

"I am Professor Snape."

Snape. Snape. She had heard that name before. Yes, she remembered. He was the Death Eater placed at Hogwarts. She wondered if he knew she was also sent by the Dark Lord.

"I hope that you will not fall behind. We have a very strict schedule. Everything has to be learnt before the exams."

"Yes s_ir_".

"What are the main ingredients of wolfs bane?" Snape asked.

Pasha answered automatically, "Hogs snout, beetle juice, gilly weed and one drop of dragons blood."

Snape studied her; clearly a little shocked. She could tell he had not expected her to answer.

"What are the main ingredients of Veritism?" Snape smirked, she would never be able to get this.

Without pausing, Pasha began to list the most complicated and unpronounceable ingredients, listing them in exactly the right order. Harry and Ron struggled to keep a straight face, finding the expression on Snape's face amusing. Snape continued to fire questions at her and Pasha continued to answer them. He finally gave up and told them to turn to page one-hundred and twenty-seven in their text books. The lesson went on,with Snape asking all the Gryffindors questions but never Pasha. He took five points off for each thing they did wrong; Neville sneezed and Snape took ten points. By the end of the class, Gryffindor had lost a total of fifty-five points.

"Maybe I should have just kept my mouth shut," said Pasha at the end, feeling a little guilty.

"Nah, it was worth it, just to see that look on Snape's face," laughed Ron.

"And there's more important things to worry about than the House Cup," said Harry.

_Like getting to Dumbledore._

The three split up when they reached the marble staicase; Ron and Harry going to Astronomy, Hermione going to History of Magic, and Pasha to Divination. The Divination room was in the North Tower. Pasha made her way up there, her excellent sense of direction guiding her. She climbed a silvery step ladder descending from the ceiling, and emerged into the Divination room. It was a round room, lit with a dim, red glow. It was stifling hot, but a fire was burning under the mantle, giving off a sickly sweet smell. The shelves on the walls were crammed full of teacups, packs of playing cards, and crystal balls.

A short, skinny woman stepped out of the shadows, coming into the firelight. Fine, transparent shawls hung off her bony shoulders; her thick glasses magnified her eyes. She wore a countless number of beads and necklaces around her skinny neck; her wrists weighed down with chattering silver bangles. She smelt strongly of cooking sherry.

"Welcome, to another year of Divination. Come, come, take a seat." Her speech was slurred.

The class settled down into the armchairs that surrounded small, circular tables scattered about the room.

"And who are you dear?" she said, focusing with some difficulty at Pasha.

"Pasha Mayes."

"I'm sorry dear, you're going to have to speak up."

"Pasha Mayes," said Pasha a little more loudly.

"I'll introduce myself first. I am Professor Trelawney. Now you're turn."

"I'm an ogre," said Pasha, exasperated.

"Well why didn't you say so. Ogre, Ogre. That's an interesting name. Where does it come from?"

"Is she _drunk?_," someone whispered.

"Now, now. Settle down. We are going to start with some crystal gazing today."

Professor Trelawney shuffled unsteadily towards one of the shelves and picked up a silvery orb.

"The art of crystal gazing-"

Professor Trelawney's hands slipped and the ball crashed to the ground and rolled away. She giggled, "Oops, silly me."

Pasha picked up the crystal ball as it rolled towards her, walked to the front of the class and handed it back. She turned and was about to go back to her seat when she heard an unfamiliar voice from behind her.

"She will have her revenge."

Pasha spun around and realized that it was Professor Trelawney who had spoken.

"What did you say?" Pasha asked cautiously.

The whole class was deathly quiet.

"She will have her revenge," Professor Trelawney repeated ina deep, croaky voice, all traces of alcohol now gone. Her eyes were rolling towards the back of her head.

"She wil lbe bonded to the Chosen One, their souls are one. She will uncover memories forgotten, uncover the truth. For this is the only way to avenge her loved ones."

Professor Trelawny seemed to snap out of it suddenly. She blinked when she saw Pasha standing in front of her.

"Ogre. What are you doing up here?"

Professor Trelawney didn't seem to know what just happened. That she had made a real prediction. Had it been a real one? It had to be. It mentioned Pasha, coming to Hogwarts to get her revenge.Pasha turned, the class was going on as if nothing had happened. She had to get out of here. The sickly perfume smell was making her dizzy. Pasha turned and strode out of the class, ignoring Professor Trelawneys cries of, Ogre! Ogre! Pasha needed to think, to go somewhere quiet. She made her way down from the North Tower and before she knew it, she was outside the castle.

Pasha looked around, dazed. She was standing under a tree by the large lake. The sunlight was glinting off the rippling waters of the lake. She slumped down, leaning against the trunk of the tree. The prediction had to have been about her. And the Chosen One, that had to have been Harry Potter. That was what everyone was calling him nowadays. What was all that stuff about being bonded to him? Their souls are one? Pasha had no idea. And about uncovering forgotten memories? The truth? The only thing she did understand was the part about revenge. _She will have her revenge_. Did that mean she was going to succeed? The sun trickled in through the leaves overhead, warming her face. She felt a little drowsy. Maybe she would sleep for a while…

"Pasha?"

Someone woke her as soon as she had closed her eyes. She looked up at the intruder. It was Harry.

"Have a nice nap?" he grinned.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, "aren't you supposed to be in class?"

"It's lunch. I was looking for you. Here, I brought you this." He handed her a sandwich.

"Thanks. Is it lunch already?" She realized that she had been asleep all morning.

"Yeah. Mind if I sit?" he asked, pointing beside her.

"Go ahead."

He sank down next to her. "So how was your first lesson of Divination?"

"It was… interesting. Professor Trelawney was drunk." She missed out the part about her prediction.

"You serious?" he said in disbelief.

"Yeah. She now thinks my name is Ogre."

Harry laughed. They began talking again. Pasha felt as if she could tell him anything. She almost told him about herself. Why she was here, what she could do, and who sent her. But she knew she couldn't. Harry would never trust her again, and she couldn't bear that. Why did she feel so bad lying to him? It wasn't as if it was the first time she had lied, so why did it feel like it?

Pasha laughed at something he said.

Harry looked at her. Pasha stopped. He leaned forward, slowly. Pasha was frozen, not knowing what to do. He leaned towards her, coming closer until their noses were touching. Pasha, after a moments hesitation, slid hereyes shut and closed the last remaining space between their lips. His mouth was warm against hers. Soft.

"Oi Harry!"

They sprang apart like startled rabbits. Pasha saw Ron coming towards them, waving his arm. He sat down in the grass in front of them.

"Where's Hermione?" asked Harry quickly.

"The library. Where else? What were you guys doing?" Ron looked from Harry's bright red face to Pasha's and made the connection. He grinned.


	7. Chapter 7

Hello hello! This is a little something I added just for the fun of it. It wasn't actually in the planning of the story, just something I thought of just now. Its not that important to the story, but read anyway! 

**Chapter 7**

Pasha floated blissfully down the empty hallway, thinking of Harry. She had decided to skip Divination for today. She was sure that if Professor Trelawney called her Ogre one more time, she would scream.

"Pasha!"

Pasha turned to see Malfoy standing there.

"What do you want?"

"We have to meet again. You know, about the mission?"

"Shhh, not so loud!" Pasha hissed angrily. She really had no patience when it came to Malfoy. "Tonight then. Same time same place."

"In the Forest again?"

Pasha rolled her eyes. "Yes, in the forest again."

"Can't we meet somewhere else? Like… the owlery?" he said hopefully.

Pasha heard someone coming, and quickly flapped her hand at him, gesturing for him to go away. "Fine, whatever."

Pasha had almost forgotten about the mission. Her old hate for Dumbledore had ebbed a bit. She felt more and more guilty as she thought about it. He had killed her parents; she should be out there doing something about it. She wondered if Malfoy had thought of a plan, because she certainly hadn't.

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_Midnight, the Owlery_

Pale moonlight trickled in through the open space on one side of the Owlery. Owls of every shape and color swooped in and out of the wide room, some carrying their dinner in their beaks. Pasha could see Malfoy standing in the middle of the room under a tall wooden post that supported hundreds of wooden beams that ran across the ceiling, creating perches for the owls. He was flapping his arms in the air, trying to shoo the birds that were swooping down on him. Malfoy heard her laugh and turned towards her. A tawny owl chose this moment to swoop down on him and pluck a strand of hair from his head.

"Argh! Get away you stupid bird!" he shouted.

"So, I guess you thought of a plan then?" asked Pasha, grinning.

"No."

"Then why did you want to meet me?"

"I heard you're going out with Harry Potter now."

Word had spread around the whole school that Pasha was going out with Harry. She didn't know how that many people could find out so fast.

"Yeah. So?"

Malfoy moved closer to her. "Well, I was just curious. Why him?"

"You jealous Malfoy?"

He chose to ignore that and continued. "You could do so much better than _Potter_."

"And what are you suggesting, Malfoy. That I should go out with _you_?"

Malfoy took one more step towards her, their faces inches apart. "That's _exactly _what I'm suggesting."

Pasha scoffed, "In you're dreams."

Malfoy scowled. He pinned her arms at her sides as he pushed her against the wooden post, mashing his lips against hers. She instinctively swung her leg up and kneed him in the groin – hard. Malfoy immediately let go of her and clutched at the place between his legs with his hands in pain.

Pasha whipped her wand out, "_Avada Kedavra."_

The jet of green light barely missed his ear. Malfoy looked up at her in fear.

"Don't _ever _touch me again. Or I swear, I wont miss," she hissed dangerously.

Malfoy nodded his head vigorously while still bent over in pain. Pasha looked down at him in disgust and pushed him over. He landed on his side in a big, wet pile of owl dropping. Pasha turned and stalked out of the room.


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: All the characters that you recognise belong to J.K Rowling. **

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**Chapter 8**

Hermione Granger pushed her bushy brown hair out of her eyes as she flicked through the pages of a heavy, leather-bound book. She thought about Pasha. Months had past since she and Harry started dating. Hermione thought that they looked very happy together, like they were meant to be. She had never seen Harry this joyful before and she was happy for her friend, but she couldn't help but notice something strange about Pasha. Like, just the other day, she had walked in on her talking to Crookshanks, calling her "Sister." _And_ she had heard her talking to Mrs. Norris, Filch the caretakers cat.And the fact that she heard her going out almost every night. Finally, she found what she was searching for in the book and began to read avidly. She felt bad doing this; researching Pasha. They had become close friends in the past few months, but she was curious to know. Hermione found the page she was looking for, and gasped at what she read. She had to tell Harry right away.

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Pasha lay on the grass, her head in Harry's lap. The sun beat down on everything outside their shelter under the tree. The past few months had been the best in Pasha's life. Time seemed to fast forward whenever she was with Harry, and her heart would ache whenever he wasn't around. They would talk and laugh all day. She couldn't understand how she could change in such a short amount of time. She no longer tried to hide her feelings and emotions. The years and years of training drummed into her disappeared as if they never happened. But her mission was always gnawing away at the back of her mind. She hadn't met with Malfoy in months. If she did complete the mission she would never be able to come back to Hogwarts again. Never see Harry again.

Pasha desperately wanted to tell him everything, but she knew he would never trust her when he found out that she worked for the Dark Lord. Maybe she could just tell him about what she was? Just that, nothing more. Yes, he could probably live with that, he would understand.

"Harry, I have something to tell you," she said, making up her mind.

"Yes?" he asked, stroking her shiny black curls.

"I've never told anyone before, and I'm not supposed to but…" she paused. "I'm a - "

"Harry!"

They both sat up and turned to see Hermione running towards them. Pasha sighed, she would probably never work up the courage to tell him again.

"Harry," panted Hermione, out of breath from her run. "I need to talk to you. Alone."

Harry glanced at Pasha, "can you stay here? I'll be back in a sec."

"Sure," said Pasha. She moved out of the shade to bathe in the sun as she watched them walk off.

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Harry followed Hermione who was leading him off, away from Pasha. She had been about to tell him something before Hermione had interrupted. He got the feeling it was important.

"Hermione, where are we going?" he asked. He looked back towards the tree Pasha was sitting under. He could only make her out as a small dark blob, stretched out in the sun liked a cat. Hermione suddenly halted and turned on him. Harry nearly walked into her.

"Hermione, what-?"

"Harry, do you know what she is?"

"Who? Pasha?" Harry asked, confused.

"Yes, Pasha."

"Um…a witch?"

"No Harry. She's a Felimorphis."

"A Feli-what?"

Hermione sighed, "a Felimorphis. I found the term in a book. It all adds up. She's a Felimorphis."

"And what exactly _is _a Felimorphis?"

"They're part human, part feline."

"But don't you think I would have noticed if she was half a cat?" asked Harry skeptically.

Hermione shook her head. "They have a human form and a feline form. And they retain some of their feline features when in their human form."

"You mean, they can turn into a cat? Like an Animagus?"

"Yes, and no. They can turn into any kind of animal in the cat family. But only one kind. It depends on the person. And they are born that way, they don't drink a potion."

"So you think _Pasha's_ a Feli-thingy."

"A Felimorphis," Hermione corrected. "And yes, I do think so. Remember the time you told me about that thing you saw at night out the window? That was her."

Harry couldn't believe it. Pasha, a Felimorphis. He tried to imagine her turning into a tiger. He couldn't.

"And remember when she told us she was going to be in Slytherin?" continued Hermione.

"Yeah."

"Well, I think I know why she got into Gryffindor. Legend has it that Godric Gryffindor was a Felimorphis."

"Pasha's a descendant of Godric Gryffindor?"

Hermione nodded, "that's what I think. Why else would she have been put into Gryffindor? She sounded pretty sure she was going to get into Slytherin."

"Why do you look so worried? Being a Felimorphis isn't _that _bad is it?" asked Harry, noticing the look on her face.

"Harry, Pasha may be in danger."

"What?"

"It was said that Voldemort used Felimorphis in his army the last time he was in power. And now that he's come back..." Hermione trailed off.

Harry started to walk back to the tree.

"Where are you going?" Hermione said, running after him.

"To ask her myself."

With Harry's brisk pace, they reached the tree in a matter of seconds. Pasha sat up and lazily looked up at them, squinting her eyes at the sun.

"Are you a Felimorphis?"

Pasha bolted up, "how did you...?"

"Well? Are you?"

"Yes."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I was. Just then, before Hermione came."

"What about before then? You had all that time."

"I've never told anyone before. And my orders, I'm not supposed to tell anyone."

"Your orders?"

"I mean," Pasha said hurriedly, "parents instructions."

"Oh."

"Harry," she said pleadingly, "you're not mad at me are you?"

Harry shook his head; he could never be mad at her.

"Of course not," he said, embracing her, "just a little disappointed that you wouldn't trust me enough."

Pasha pulled away from him and looked him in eye, dead serious, "Harry. I would trust you with my life. It's just a little... complicated."

And Harry believed her.

The three of them started making their way back to the castle, Harry's arm around Pasha's shoulders.

"So what animal do you turn into?" he asked.

Pasha smiled up at him, "maybe I'll show you someday."

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Thank you so much for your reviews everyone! i love reviews! (and yes i know, Felimorphis is a really stupid name so no flames please! im no J.K Rowling!) 


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: All the characters belong to J.K Rowling and are not mine. Except one!

**Chapter9**

_It was midday. A pool of light gathered on the ground from the stained glass window. A woman sat on her bed and lovingly brushed her daughters dark curls. The little girl smiled, enjoying it._

"_Mummy?" _

"_Yes?" said the woman._

"_Do we have to move again?" asked her daughter, her wide golden eyes looking pleadingly up at her._

"_I'm sorry Pasha, but we have to."_

"_Is it because of You-Know-Who?"_

_The woman looked surprised at how much her daughter knew._

"_Yes honey. It is because of him. But I promise I won't let him get you. Ok?"_

_The little girl, Pasha, nodded._

"Ogre? Ogre, are you listening?"

Pasha looked up into Professor Trelawney's huge, magnified eyes.

"My name is _not _Ogre," Pasha growled for what seemed like the millionth time. She knew it was useless. Professor Trelawney would just forget again after a few drinks.

She remembered her mother brushing her hair. But it couldn't have been a memory; the Dark Lord had told her that her parents had been murdered when she was a year old. It must have been a dream. The yellow potion had run out a few weeks ago, and she had been having these strange dreams, a different one each time. They were so real, as if she was looking into someone else's memory.

At long last, the class was dismissed. Pasha was the first one sliding down the ladder and down to the Great Hall to meet Harry, Ron and Hermione for lunch.

"Mayes," called a cold voice.

Pasha turned. It was Snape.

"Yes Professor?"

"Come with me." He turned on his heel and strode off. She followed.

He led her down into the dungeons. She expected him to stop at the Potions room, but they went down yet another staircase. The thick curtain of cobwebs in the narrow corridor told her that it hadn't been used in a while. Snape stopped in front of an old wooden door, which opened reluctantly with a horrible creak. Pasha entered while pulling strands of sticky cobwebs from her curls.

"_Crucio._"

Without warning, Snape pointed his wand at Pasha, who was instantly hit with excruciating pain. She doubled over, gasping with shock. While most people would be writhing on the ground by now, Pasha's years of training had taught her to withstand pain. She felt the pain increase and fell to her knees. Snape lifted his wand and it abruptly stopped.

"The Dark Lord is _very _unhappy with you Pasha. He expected you to get the job done in the first week. And what's this he hears? Dating Harry Potter?" He sneered maliciously.

Before Pasha had time to reach for her wand, another wave of pain took over her. Snape once again stopped and looked down at her as she lay gasping on the ground.

"He wants you to finish the job. Tonight," he said. "And a little reminder from him so you know what's in store for you if you should fail."

Snape lifted his wand, but this time, the pain was unbearable. It was as if every nerve in her body were on fire. She screamed as the blackness enveloped her.

"_I can't do it mum!" wailed a thirteen-year-old girl._

"_Of course you can honey. You just have to try," said her mother reassuringly. She tucked a loose strand of dark hair behind her ear as she encouraged her daughter._

_Pasha had been trying to transform all day, but it wasn't working. Her mother made it looks so easy, transforming into a sleek black cat each time. And her father into a lion._

"_Don't concentrate on what animal you want to be, you can't control that. Look deep inside yourself, it will be there."_

_Pasha shut her eyes as she reached deep inside herself as he mother told her, searching. Then, she did it. She could almost see it in her mind's eye. It had been there all along; it was part of who she was. Pasha felt her body change. She swished her tail. It didn't feel any new or different. It was as if she had been this way her whole life. It just felt so natural. Her mother looked at her, pride shining in her eyes. Pride for her daughter. Transforming back was easier. Pasha turned into a human once more and ran into her mother's arms._

Pasha lay on the cold stone floor. Her whole body ached as she sat up. Another dream, this time more vivid. She took in her surroundings and she remembered her instructions. For the first time in years, Pasha cried. She let the tears flow freely down her face as grief took over her. Grief for the friends she had made and would never see again, grief for the new life she had come to enjoy, grief at the thought she could never again be with Harry. It was then that she realized, she was in love with him. He was her soul mate. _Their souls are one, _that was what Professor Trelawney's prediction had meant. She and Harry were soul mates, and she would never see him again.

Pasha picked herself up and angrily brushed the tears away. Her face was emotionless once more: she was back to her old self again, and she hated herself for that. She made her way up out of the dungeons and towards Dumbledore's office. Hard determination blazed in her eyes. She would get it over and done with. She would avenge her parents.

"Pasha!"

Pasha flinched at the sound of Harry's voice.

"I've been looking for you all day. Where've you been?"

"Go away Harry. We can't be together anymore." Pasha almost cried again at the look of hurt on Harry's face. _Please Harry, you have to understand. I have to do this._

Pasha continued walking as Harry fell away behind her. She reached the stone gargoyle she knew to be the entrance of Dumbledore's office. Pasha didn't know the password, but instead, pulled out her wand and performed a spell learnt from the Dark Lord himself. The statue blew into a million pieces. She gingerly stepped over the remains of the now turned to gravel gargoyle and climbed the stairs.

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Thanks sooooooooooo much for all of you that reviewed... but review again! i dont care if you say the same thing, just review! please? 


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: Shit! Shit! I just found out that the name Pasha Mayes was already used in a book (I thought I recognised it from somewhere. It must have been in my subconcious mind or whatever you call it) sooooooooo... the name Pasha Mayes belongs to Terry Goodkind and all the characters from Harry Potter are J.K Rowlings. Ok? And this disclaimer counts for all of the other chapters posted before it. So nobody sue me!

**A/n: **Ahem ahem, I would just like to take this opportunity to thank all the people who have reviewed my story so far. Big thanks to Zillian, celestialwitch, hippie of purple, RohanVos, Jessica Halliwell Potter, Alexandra Black, and of course all those anonymous people - I dont know who you are but thank you!

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Chapter 10**

Pasha clutched her wand tightly as she sucked in a breath, preparing herself for what she was about to do. She tried to summon enough hate for Dumbledore, but it was harder than she thought it would be. A few months ago, someone only had to mention his name and Pasha would become a raging bull. But she had changed. Harry had changed her. She placed her hand gently on the brass doorknob, took another deep breath, and swung the door open.

Her vision suddenly turned gold and scarlet as a huge bird the size of a swan flew into her. It tore a gash in her robe with a golden talon as she tried to swat it away.

Pasha couldn't tell if Dumbledore was there or not, as she was too busy trying to get the bird away. She tried aiming spells at it, but it was too quick and dodged them, only to come back at her again.Suddenly, she felt her wand fly out of her hand as somebody disarmed her. She heard a voice.

"That will be enough Fawkes."

The bird screeched one more time at her, and flew off to rest on a perch set in a corner. Dumbledore stood in front of her, holding her wand and his in the other hand. This was so _not _how she had expected it to go.

"Miss Mayes, I was wondering when you would come. I was just about to call you up now."

In the blink of an eye, Pasha transformed and lunged at him, claws outstretched. She wasn't thinking properly, her hate was making her reckless. Dumbledore flicked his wand at her, and Pasha was instantly paralyzed. Dumbledore seemed surprisingly calm, considering he was about to be attacked by a huge, black panther. Pasha hung, suspended in the air for a fraction of a second, before dropping to the ground with a crash.

"Miss Granger informed me about you. She was worried for you. I will unfreeze you now, but you must promise to hear me out."

On the ground, Pasha transformed. Transforming wasnotabout controlling her body,it was something inside of her she had to reach for; and that was somethingno spell could paralyze. With a wave of his wand, Dumbledore unfroze her. Pasha scrambled up and glared at him.

"Give me back my wand," she growled.

"I am afraid I cannot do that," said Dumbledore calmly.

"Give me back my wand you coward! Or are you going to kill me too, just like you killed my parents?"

Dumbledore looked shocked for a second. That aggravated Pasha even more. Had he forgotten so soon? Forgotten he had killed? That only emphasized the point that he was a cold-blooded murderer. Pasha had never forgotten Renwold, the man she had killed. She could remember exactly what he looked like, remember his last words, remember his scream.

"Ah," said Dumbledore, as if realizing something. "So this is what he has done."

"What who has done?" asked Pasha angrily. _Why doesn't he just kill me already?_

"I am not the one who killed you parents, Pasha. Voldemort did."

"Impossible," Pasha said automatically, "that's impossible. You're the one who did it you liar! You're the one who murdered my parents when I was just a year old!"

Dumbledore shook his head sadly, "no. You're parents were killed three years ago, when Voldemort came to power again."

Pasha shook her head, it couldn't be. Dumbledore was just trying to take the blame off himself. The Dark Lord couldn't have killed her parents, why would he? He was the one trying to help her get her revenge.

"I'm sorry to have to be the one to tell you Pasha, but it is the truth. Voldemort wanted the Felimorphis on his side, and when your parents refused, he killed them and took you."

"He…he gave me a potion," Pasha whispered more to herself than to Dumbledore. Was it poison? Something to kill her slowly?

"Antitide Memoria," murmered Dumbledore.

"What?"

"Is it a bright yellow color?"

"Yes." _How does he know?_

"It works in conjunction with a Memory Charm. It strengthens it, makes it last longer. Voldemort probably didn't want you to get your memory back, but didn't want to erase _all _of it by performing another Memory Charm, so he gave you that potion."

Tears flowed down her cheeks as she realized the truth of what he was saying. Dumbledore wasn't the one who had killed her parents, Voldemort had. And those dreams. They were her memories. She remembered the dark hooded figure; that was Voldemort, not Dumbledore. He had killed her parents, taken her, erased her whole childhood as if it never happened, and used her in his evil plans. He had made her kill a person. Pasha cried as she had never cried before, sobbing her heart out.

-------------------------------------------

Harry couldn't bear it anymore, standing outside, listening to Pasha heartfelt sobs. After getting over his initial shock at what Pasha had said to him before, Harry had decided to follow her and apologize for whatever he had done to make her mad at him. He had followed her up the stairs to Dumbledore's office andhad beenabout to go in after her when he heard Dumbledore speaking. He found out that Pasha had been used by Voldemort, and his heart went out to her. He could stand it no longer. He burst into the room and gathered Pasha in his arms. She wept onto his shoulder as he hugged her tightly.

"Shhh, its all right. I'm here now," he said as if cooing to a baby.

Dumbledore looked at them both. "I'll leave you two alone for a while," he said, excusing himself. Harry nodded.

"Harry!" cried Pasha, her shoulders shaking uncontrollably, "Harry, I'm bad. I'm no better than the Dark Lord himself. I was about to murder an innocent person. And before I came here, I did! I killed a person Harry!"

Even though he was shocked, he still continued to hold her tightly, trying to calm her.

"It wasn't your fault. He made you do it. He manipulated you, he lied to you, he made you think it was the right thing to do to avenge your parents."

This just made her cry harder.

"Stop it. This isn't helping. What you should be doing is trying to get back at Voldemort," he said, trying a different tactic.

"You're right," said Pasha, wiping her eyes, her crying down to a sniffle. "I shouldn't be crying, I should be avenging my parents." She looked at Harry. "And so should you."

Voldemort had also murdered Harry's parents, except, unlike Pasha, he had never gotten to know them. He supposed that knowing them and losing them would hurt more than not knowing them at all.

"We can't do anything about it now, but we'll think of something. And we'll get him back. Together."

* * *

A little extract from the next chapter just to keep you interested: "Headmaster," she said in a panicked voice, "Death Eaters! In the castle!" 

Please please please (x100000000) review!


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: All the characters you recognise belong to someone else. They are not mine. blah blah blah

Note: I know Volemort has seven Horcruxes in the book, but in my version he only has one more remaining. OK? So no flames please on how dumb I am for not knowing that.

* * *

**Chapter 11**

Pasha sat stonily in a wooden chair in front of Dumbledore's desk. Harry sat next to her. She silently reflected on everything Dumbledore had told her. She would have to go into hiding after she left Hogwarts. The Dark Lord would be after her, and she knew _exactly _what he did to those who betrayed him. Pasha had told Dumbledore everything she knew of Voldemort, and everything he had taught her. The Dark Lord had taught her everything he knew of the Dark Arts, although, now that she thought about it, she didn't know why. He wasn't one to share his secrets with anyone, much less _her._

"So how many of those Horcruxes does Voldemort have?" asked Harry, breaking the silence.

Pasha had told him and Dumbledore about the Dark Lord's Horcruxes. "Only one more. He used one the night you defeated him."

"So he's still immortal," said Harry, sighing.

Suddenly, the door to the office burst open and a breathless Professor McGonagall entered.

"Headmaster," she said in a panicked voice, "Death Eaters! In the castle!"

All three of them bolted up from their chairs.

"You two stay here," said Dumbledore, following Professor McGonagall out the door. "There are members of the Order here, we will take care of it."

Pasha and Harry followed him out, despite his order.

"They killed my parents, Professor!" said Pasha, looking at him defiantly, "I have a right to go."

Dumbledore studied her for a few seconds before nodding. "I understand you're pain Pasha. He has tricked you and stolen you're childhood, so I will let you go. But you must promise me not to do anything reckless. The Death Eaters are dangerous, as you of all people must know."

Pasha nodded and gave him her word. They followed Professor McGonagall towards the sounds of fighting coming from a distant corridor. Finally, rounding a corner, Pasha entered into a world of chaos. The narrow corridor, barely wide enough for two people to walk abreast, was full of people aiming colored jets of lights at each other. Pasha could make out the Death Eaters by their dark, cloaked figures. About a dozen lay slumped on the ground. There were only a few of them remaining. Beside her, Harry gasped and clutched at his scar.

"He's here. Voldemort."

"That can't be," said Pasha. Why would he risk his life trying to get her? Even if he did have another Horcrux...

Dumbledore and McGonagall had already rushed into the fray, helping Professor Middleweek who was fighting off two Death Eaters. Pasha could see Hermione, Ron, and Neville dodging hexes sent their way while aiming some of their own. A Death Eater shot a jet of green light at Pasha, but she ducked out of the way just in time. A curse hit the Death Eater in the back and he crumpled to the ground.

"Thank-" Pasha began, but stopped when she realized who it was. Voldemort. Standing right in front of her, his piercing red eyes glaring at her.

Pasha could feel hate welling up inside her. All of her old resentment towards Dumbledore was now redirected towards Voldemort. He was the one who had killed her parents. Not just her parents either, but countless other people. And now he had come to ruin the new life she had come to know and love.

"You have betrayed me," he hissed.

Everything had gone quiet: all the Death Eaters had been defeated. Voldemort was now surrounded.

"You killed my parents!" Pasha screamed at him, seething with hate. "You erased my memory!"

"Indeed I did."

If Pasha hadn't been so angry, she would have noticed something suspicious about his calm manner. But from within the grip of rage, she hardly noticed.

"You're parents were fools. I offered them a place in my army, power, wealth, but they rejected it. You could be great too Pasha. Come join me, don't end up like your parents."

Without hesitating, Pasha lifted her wand. "_Avada Kedavra!"_

Green light shot out of her wand and just a millisecond after it hit Voldemort, killing him, Pasha screamed. Pain erupted from the very core of her being, as if part of herself was being ripped away. She fell into a world of blackness.

--------------------------

She blinked, not knowing where she was. She felt something move under her hand and looked down. To her surprise, she saw that instead of a hand, a dust-colored paw. But why should she be surprised? She had had it all her life. The tiny mouse squirmed again. It had looked so scrumptious before, but now she felt sorry for it. She lifted her paw and watched it scurry away. A man with scraggly gray hair rounded a corner just in time to see her let the mouse go. He said something. Even though she couldn't understand him, she knew it was about the mouse. After all, Mrs. Norris was a very smart cat.

* * *

I know you're thinking WTF? But never fear, it will all be explained later. And I know that in the OTHER prophecy that Harry is the one who is supposed to kill Voldemort ... and he will! Haha I'm just confusing you. Just keep reading and everything will become clear.

PLEASE REVIEW!


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: I own nothing!

* * *

**Chapter 12**

She opened her eyes, looking around in confusion at the worried faces around her.

"Pasha," said a boy with messy black hair. His lightening-bolt shaped scar shone in the dim torchlight on his forehead.

_Who's Pasha?_ Then she remembered. _She _was Pasha. Why in the world would she think she was anyone else? She looked at the boy again. For a second, she filled with a loathing for him, but it soon passed as she recognized who it was. Harry Potter. Her love. Her soul mate.

"You ok?" he asked, worried.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she said as he helped her up.

"What happened? You started screaming and then... just blacked out," said Ron.

"I... I don't know. I remember it hurting. A lot," she added.

Dumbledore held her gaze, his electric blue eyes penetrating into her. She pulled her eyes away, unable to look at him for some reason.

"You did it Pasha! You defeated You-Know-Who!" exclaimed Ginny.

Pasha remembered Voldemort surrounded, helpless. Although she didn't recall enjoying killing him, she thought she ought to have. The more she thought about it, the more she agreed. The way his life had been in her hands, at her mercy. The way she had ended his life with a few words. The power of it intrigued her. _What am I thinking? Of course I didn't enjoy it,_ she hurriedly thought to herself.

Dumbledore continued to study her. She refused to look into his eyes, deliberately avoiding his gaze. Something was wrong with her. Everything was quiet. It felt as if there were cotton buds over her ears, muffling the sound of everything. And her eyesight. The dim corridor seemed so clear before when they had been fighting the Death Eaters, but now it was covered in a dark haze.

"Do you think he's actually… dead?" asked Neville cautiously.

"Of course," replied Professor Middleweek, or rather, Tonks. "Not even You-Know-Who can rise from the dead."

Neville nodded, his face still pale.

Pasha noticed Dumbledore waving his wand around at the Death Eaters slumped on the ground.

"They will not wake for hours now. Plenty of time for the Ministry to come get them," he explained.

They all stood in silence as the realization of tonight's events washed over them. It was over. The tyranny of Voldemort was finally over. They would no longer live in fear of him.It was a miracle that none of them were hurt. Pasha still couldn't believe he had been defeated that easily. He should have known that she would kill him, and yet, he had not defended himself. It was as if… as if he had done it on purpose. But why would he? He had no more Horcruxes left. Pasha was sure of that.

"You better get up to your rooms now," said Professor McGonagall, shooing them away. "We will take care of everything."

Ron, Hermione, Neville, Ginny, Harry and Pasha trooped off in silence, giving wide berth to the Death Eaters. The way back up to the dormitories was a long one. They had to stop and explain to various teachers as to why they were out of bed after hours. Of course, none of them believed Voldemort had been defeated, but they scurried off just to check. The six of them could hear their exclamations of surprise echoing down the corridors. Finally, reaching her bed, Pasha flopped down and immediately fell asleep.

* * *

Harry lay in his bed, silently reflecting on todays events. So much had happened, his thoughts were all over the place. Pasha had found out about her past, and the Dark Lord had been defeated. Harry thought about the prophecy, the one that said he either had to kill or be killed. 

_Either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives. _

That was what the prophecy had said - those were its exact words. But how had Pasha defeated Voldemort, when Harry was the one destined to destroy him? _Not that I'm complaining,_ he thought to himself. His thoughts wandered back to the aftermath of Voldemorts death. He wondered why Pasha had screamed and fainted. She had seemed like she was in great pain, but she had woken up a minute later.

He was relieved it was over. It felt as if a great burden had been lifted off his shoulders. He could finally live normally, live with his friends without having to worry about putting them in danger. And with that thought in his mind, he drifted off into a peaceful slumber.

* * *

_The next day_

Ever since she had blacked out last night, she had been viewing everything as if seeing things for the first time. She didn't know what was happening to her. Maybe the last encounter with Voldemort had shaken her. She didn't know exactly what it was, but she knew she had changed. Drastically. Pasha hadn't told anyone yet, but she knew something was wrong with her. Her eyesight still hadn't improved, she could no longer see in the dark. And her hearing was not much better. She could still hear everything, just not asclearly as she used to. But the most drastic thing of all was that she could no longer transform. Nothing like this had ever happened to her. That part of her was always there, always waiting for her to reach in and use it. But it was gone. Pasha hadn't told anyone yet; she knew all they would do was worry over her. She decided to ignore it for now; maybe everything would go back to normal after a few days.

* * *

I know, short chapter. And I know this chapter makes it kind of obvious about whats happening, but if you dont know, then try and guess! Thanks for reading, please review. 

And thank-you so much for all of the reviews! I LOVE REVIEWS

ps. and no, Pasha didn't defeat Voldemort just because she is a MARY-SUE. Theres more to it than that, as you will soon find out. Only a few more chapters to go!


	13. Chapter 13

Disclaimer: Don't own a thing except the plot. 

**A/N: **ok, I promised a longer chapter so here it is! Enjoy! (And please review!)

* * *

**Chapter 13**

The streets of Hogsmeade were clogged with a sea of black. The hundreds of students scuffling down the streets had churned the snow into a gray slush. Breaths of mist issued out of every mouth as they laughed, talked and shrieked. Pasha was among them, breathing warm air into her hands in an effort to revive them. Harry, Ron and Hermione were there, the hem of their cloaks soaked from trailing in the snow behind them. They wearily trooped their way through the throng of students, heading for the tempting warmth of the Three Broomsticks. They had been going from shop to shop for the past hour, more for Pasha's sake, as she had never been to Hogsmeade before. At least, not that she recalled. Her memory had not fully recovered yet, but it was getting there. It was coming back in bits and pieces.

"I can't feel my hands," announced Ron, furiously rubbing his hands together.

"Nearly there," panted Hermione, spotting the Three Broomsticks.

A young girl dressed in the Hogwarts robes, probably a first year, suddenly jumped out in front of Harry. "Can I have you're autograph?" she asked, giggling.

Pasha could tell by the look on Harry's face that he didn't want to. "Why don't you just piss off?" she snapped angrily, surprising the three of them, and even herself.

The girl's eyes widened and looked at her fearfully before scurrying off.

"Why'd you do that?" asked Harry.

"Because I can," she replied coolly. That was about the twentieth person who had asked for his autograph today.

Ever since the headlines in the _Daily Prophet_ a few days ago, stating that 'the Chosen One' had defeated the Dark Lord, the wizarding community had been celebrating. Every night seemed to be one full of celebrating, drinking and partying.

Of course, not all of the Death Eaters had been captured; Voldemort had only brought a few of them with him during his 'visit' to Hogwarts. There had been no news as to the whereabouts of the other Death Eaters, but that was only a minor defect. No one was really worried about them; they were thought to have scattered and now in hiding, just like the first time Voldemort had been defeated. Of course, he hadn't been truly defeated then. This time, though, he was well and truly dead. There were some people, mostly paranoid, senile, witches and wizards, who believed the Dark Lord wasn't gone. They would make public announcements of how You-Know-Who would use another one of his vile tricks of the Dark Arts and rise again. They were mostly ignored.

Everyone knew Voldemort was gone, as they had found his body. Although nobody knew what the Ministry had done with it, it was said that they had had a burning ceremony, or thrown it in the lake in front of Hogwarts School for the Giant Squid, or even left to rot. Nobody knew for sure, but there were quite a lot of rumors surrounding the matter, and most of them were of the gruesome variety.

Finally reaching the swinging double doors of the Three Broomsticks, they breathed a sigh of relief. Warmth flooded her body as Pasha stepped into the tiny inn. A whirlwind of snowflakes took the opportunity to come in with them, but they soon melted on the stone floor. Pasha saw Harry pull his hood up to his face to hide himself so he wouldn't be recognized. The _Daily Prophet _had said it was Harry that had defeated the Dark Lord. They did mention Pasha once or twice, but described her as his 'sidekick'.

They sat down at the nearest vacant table, with Harry slouching in his seat, hiding his face in the shadow of his hood. Madam Rosmerta, a curvaceous woman with a pretty face came up to their table. "What will it be dears?"

"Three Butterbeers, please," said Ron, his ears turning slightlyred when she smiled at him.

She jotted down their order in a little notebook and walked off to get the drinks.

"Is it safe to come out now?" Harry asked quietly from beneath his hood.

"Yeah, it'll be fine," said Hermione. "Just take off your glasses and cover your scar."

Harry hastily pulled off his glasses and tucked them away into his robes. He pulled down the hood and made an effort to flatten his unruly hair. "There?"

"Don't even recognize you," reassured Ron.

Harry let out a breath. "Good."

Pasha saw Madam Rosmerta approaching carrying three foaming tankards of hot Butterbeer. "Here you go," she said, setting them down on the table. "Three Butterbeers."

"Thank-you," said Harry, paying her.

"Happy Christmas!" said Ron happily, raising his tankard.

Pasha drank deeply. The hot, foaming liquid warmed her insides as it slid down. She quickly took another gulp. In a matter of seconds, she had finished the whole tankard and was eager for more. "I'm going to get some more," she said, standing up. She reached inside her robes and tried to feel for her money purse. It wasn't there. She cursed under her breath.

"What?" Hermione asked.

"I think I left my purse on the counter in Honeydukes," she said. "I'll be right back."

"I'll come with you," said Harry, standing up.

Pasha waved him off, "no its fine. I'll just be a minute."

Harry sat back down again. "Ok, we'll meet you back here."

Pasha gave him a small smile and walked back out the doors into the frigid air. She gasped as the bitter wind hit her but continued to weave her way through the crowd of people. It took a lot of elbowing and pushing to finally make it into Honeydukes. She reached the counter and began explaining her situation to the stout woman behind the counter.

"Ah," she said. "Yes its right here." The woman bent down and began rummaging through a box. She straightened, holding a purple money pouch. "Here you go."

"Thank-you," said Pasha gratefully.

The woman gave her a kind smile, "don't worry, happens all the time."

Pasha gave her another nod of thanks before shoving her way through even more students and back out onto Diagon Alley.

In the corner of her eye, she noticed a narrow alleyway. She stopped and turned to see where it leaded to. Pasha squinted her eyes, (her eyesight still had not improved) but couldn't see the end of it. She glanced up at the old wooden post with an arrow pointing down the dark alleyway. It had _Knockturn Alley _scratched clumsily on it. _Knockturn Alley, Knockturn Alley_, she repeated to herself. _I've heard of it before._ Soon, her curiosity got the better of her and she turned and walked into the dim alley.

The dark alleyway twisted and turned, leading her down several steps before she emerged ontodark street. Dingy little shops lined both sides of the road; they seemed devoted entirely to the Dark Arts. There weren't nearly as much people here as there had been in Diagon Alley. A pair of shabby looking wizards watched her, muttering to each other. An old witch with a humpback was shuffling along in front of her, clutching what appeared to be a cage full of large, hairy spiders.

Pasha strode down the street, peering curiously in through the shop windows. She reached a shop near the end of the alleyway, it seemed to be one of the biggest. The sign outside the door read Borgin and Burkes. She didn't know what made her do it, but she suddenly felt herself being drawn in. She pushed open the grimy door and entered the shop. Hundreds of artifacts lined the shelves, all devoted to the Dark Arts. Along one wall was a display of grotesque-looking shrunken heads. An assortment of human bones lay upon the counter and rusty, spiked instruments hung from the ceiling. A pack of bloodied playing cards lay strewn across a small table and along another wall; a collection of eyeballs (which looked suspiciously human) bobbed up and down in a green liquid in glass jars. Near the front of the shop, a hooded figure stood with its back to her.

Pasha felt something pulling her towards something in the corner of the shop. It felt as if it were nagging at her, tugging at her soul. She cautiously walked towards it. It was a plain gold necklace, nothing special. She wondered why she felt so drawn to it. The dark figure watched her as she fingered the fine chain. Without thinking, she grabbed it and walked towards the counter. The old man peered at her curiously, probably wondering what a Hogwarts student was doing here.

"Are you going to tell me how much it is or not?" she asked bluntly.

"Ten Galleons," he said hoarsely.

Pasha paid him and pocketed the chain. She walked briskly out of the shop and back out into Knockturn Alley. Thoughts buzzed in her mind. _Why did I just do that? _No matter how much she thought about it, she could not figure it out. Pasha glanced back behind her and noticed the hooded figure following behind her. _Great,_ she thought. She quickened her pace, trying to shake it off, but it continued to follow her. She made a sharp turn at the first street and entered a narrow alleyway. Pasha immediately realized the mistake she had made. It was a dead end. _Uh oh, I'm in trouble._

Pasha turned to face the threat, pulling out her wand at the same time. "Who are you?"

The person didn't reply, but simply pulled down its hood in answer to reveal the face of a dark-haired woman. She had heavy-lidded eyes and a strong jaw. Her dark, matted hair hung just past her shoulders. Pasha knew who this was; it was Bellatrix Lestrange, Death Eater.

* * *

Big thanks to c.vigil xX, LyndseyHattaway, amrawo, Kittels, Baby-Vixen, ShortandTuff, Half-Blood-Rebecca and darth mojo the spork (your tips were really helpfull!) for reviewing the last chapter! I really appreciate it! (Although I dont know if O.O is a good or bad review though... oh well, lol, I'll just assume it as the first one! 

_An assortment of human bones lay upon the counter and rusty, spiked instruments hung from the ceiling._ Ok, ok, I admit it. That line came straight from the book. Bad writer! Bad!

Ok, this chapter wasn't _that_ long but at least its longer than the other chapter! Tell me how I did! Was it good? Bad? Smells like shit? WHAT? I need to know! REVIEW, PPL! REVIEW!

Ahem (coughs and recovers posture) Please review.


	14. Chapter 14

Disclaimer: Don't own anything

Warning: this chapter is EXTREMELY short, and may carry signs of writers block.

**

* * *

Chapter 14**

Pasha tightened her grip on her wand. "What do you want?"

Bellatrix took a step towards her. She didn't even bother to draw her wand. Did she underestimate Pasha so much as to not even take out her wand?

"Stop right there! Don't come closer," Pasha said, pointing her wand threateningly at her. She should just kill her right then and there. After all, how many innocent people had Bellatrix killed, how many lives had she ruined? She should just do it now; no one was around.

But she couldn't help but notice there was something odd about Bellatrix's behaviour. There was something about the way she looked at her, something about the way her posture, that suggested to Pasha she was not thinking of attacking. In fact, she looked almost fearful of her.

"What do you want?" she asked again.

"Master," whispered Bellatrix.

"What?" _Master_? Had Bellatrix just called her Master? But why on earth would she call her that?

"Master, it is I; your most faithful servant. I have done as you asked."

There was only one person in the world Bellatrix would call master, and that person was dead. Suddenly, she realised her hand was reaching inside her robes of its own accord. _What the hell is going on?_ She desperately tried to gain control, but failed. Was Bellatrix performing the Imperious Curse on her? But that was impossible. She didn't even have her wand out; not even the Dark Lord could do wandless magic.

She felt her fingers grasp a hold of the necklace she had just bought. She pulled it out and still gripping her wand in one hand, pulled the chain over her head. As soon as it settled around her neck, she felt dizzy. Her surroundings spun around her, leaving her swaying on her feet. Memories flooded her. But they were not her memories. They were somebody else's: Voldmorts.

Various scenes flashed before her eyes. Images depicting Voldemort's childhood slid past her eyes like a slideshow, yet she somehow felt all his feelings, thoughts and opinions about them as well. Other memories bubbled up as well: Dumbledore coming to the orphanage to get him, his years at Hogwarts, the making of the Horcruxes, killing people, gathering his army. The night he had killed the Potters, the night of his downfall, his revival, the night he had killed the Mayes, taking their daughter and embedding part of his soul in her, using various tricks of the Dark Arts to make the shattered piece of his soul lie dormant in her until his body had been defeated. And when the soul had been awakened… her soul had been pushed out. He had put all of his memories in the necklace, and spelled it to draw the person in which his soul lay: Pasha.

The Dark Lord – the most feared wizard in history, responsible for killing thousands, was reborn as a seventeen-year-old girl.

"You have done well, my servant," said Voldemort imperiously. His voice had the feminine, velvety voice of Pasha, but there was also something else under it. Something dangerous.

"Thank-you, my Lord," said Bellatrix, bowing her head.

"But there is one last thing for you to do."

Bellatrix looked up, shuddering slightly at the menace she saw in his golden, cat-like eyes.

"We will be going for another visit to Hogwarts tonight. I want you to bring the others and meet me there."

"But… my Lord, how will we get in?"

Voldemort smiled evilly. "I took Hogwarts' defences down last time I was there. We will have to go in before Dumbledore realises."

Bellatrix bowed her head again. "Yes, master. I will see to it." She Disapparated with a 'pop'

Voldemort made his way out of the alleyway, up a flight of stairs and back out onto the busy street of Hogsmeade. Hundreds of Hogwarts students jostled him as he weaved his way towards the Three Broomsticks. Even with his memory back, he still had Pasha's, and he now knew the extent of her betrayal.

He caught the eye of a tall, dark-haired boy in black school robes. The boy winked at him. He felt himself grip his wand, or rather, Pasha's wand, tightly, but restrained himself from cursing him just in time. He couldn't expose himself now, not when he was so close to finally getting Harry Potter. The boy drew back at the glare he sent him instead.

Voldemort finally reached the small inn. He swung open the door and made his way towards the table where he remembered Potter sat.

"Hey, did you get your purse back?" Potter asked as he sank down in the seat next to him.

"Yes." It was all he could do to restrain himself from killing him then and there. How many times had this boy weakened him, thwarted his plans, held his goals just out of reach? Despite Pasha's feelings for Potter that he could sense stirring inside of him, Voldemort hated him. He hated him with all of his being. But he would have his revenge soon enough.

He listened, bored, as the conversation carried on between the girl, Potter, and the redheaded boy.

"We should probably get back to the castle now. I think everyone's going back," said the bushy-haired Mudblood known as Hermione.

They trooped out of the inn, and back out into the cold. Voldemort drew his hood up to stop his hair from whipping his face. He stiffened when he felt Potter's arm encircle his waist. He clenched his teeth, concentrating on keeping his hands over his hood and not going for his wand. Slowly, they began to make their way towards Hogwarts.

* * *

Harry made his way up the steps, through the double oak doors and into the Entrance Hall, grateful to be out of the cold. Flakes of snow fell to the ground as he removed his cloak, shaking it out. Hermione, Ron and Pasha did the same. He spotted Mrs. Norris as she padded out of the Great Hall. The dust-colored cat turned towards them, inspecting them with large, amber eyes. Then, she did a very unusual thing. She made her way towards Pasha, as if going to greet her. Suddenly, she stopped in her tracks. She appraised Pasha with her lamp-like eyes and hissed, the fur on her back standing on end. Harry had never seen this happen before. Pasha usually got on well with cats, considering her Felimorphis ability, but he guessed that it would be hard for anyone, even her, to get on with Mrs. Norris. Except, perhaps, Filch. 

Harry watched, intrigued (and slightly creeped) out as Mrs. Norris turned towards him instead. She purred and twined herself around his legs, rubbing her head on his shin.

"Woah," said Ron, raising his eyebrows, "now _that _is weird."

They all knew that Mrs. Norris did not associate with the students. She was Filches little helper, reporting back to him whenever someone misbehaved in the corridor. Perhaps someone had drugged her water, or put a spell on her, because this _certainly_ wasn't Mrs. Norris.

"Lets go," said Hermione, indicating towards the marble staircase. Harry followed Hermione and Ron as they made their way towards flight of stairs, stepping over Mrs. Norris. Then, he heard a voice behind him: Pasha's voice.

"Harry."

He turned, and was met with the tip of Pasha's wand pointing directly over his heart.

* * *

I know, I know. Evil for ending on a cliff-hanger. I was probably doing you a favour though, seeing as how my writing was getting worse and worse. Trust me, I was doing you a favour by ending it there. But I do hope you enjoyed it!

And thank-you to all of you who reviewed!

Kittels, ShortandTuff, amrawo, Kunai-chan, c.vigil xX, rkktalks alot

ps, I dont know if you've noticed, but I've started a new story! Yay! I'd really like it if you went and checked it out, I would really appreciate your opinion on it.


	15. Chapter 15

Disclaimer: Don't own a thing.

There may be mistakes in this; I was kind of rushing it so please excuse.

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**Chapter 15**

"Pasha… what?" Harry asked, startled. Was this some kind of joke? What was she doing?

Pasha grinned. Something familiar gleamed in her eyes, but Harry couldn't quite put his finger on it.

"I finally have you, Harry Potter."

"What are you doing?" he heard Hermione ask behind him, clearly as shocked as he was.

"What, don't recognise me?"

Then Harry remembered where he had seen that sneer, seen that same gleam of hatred: Voldemort. But how was that possible? Voldemort was dead, Harry was sure of it. It had to be Death Eaters performing the Imperious Curse on her. Yes, that had to be it, they were probably getting revenge for the downfall of their master.

"Pasha, you can resist it," he encouraged, remembering his experience with the curse in his fourth year. "Concentrate."

Pasha laughed. It was not the velvety chuckle he had come to know and love. The laugh – Voldemort's laugh – was crueler, more malicious. Something around her neck caught his eye: a fine gold chain he did not remember her wearing before, glinting in the light.

"You think I would perform the Imperious Curse on her, Potter? Yes, I admit that would be much easier, but I'd much rather kill you first-hand."

Harry was beginning to doubt that this really was a Death Eater… but it had to be! How could Voldemort still be alive? He had seen him die; Pasha had killed him. The words of the prophecy suddenly came to him: _either must die at the hand of the other… _could it be? Did Volemort actually survive the Killing Curse?

"I have you this time, Harry. I will not let you slip through my fingers… not this time," hissed Pasha.

Harry watched the wand apprehensively, his heart thudding in his chest. He silently cursed himself for putting his wand in his back pocket; it was out of reach.

"Time to say goodbye, Harry Potter."

"No!" he heard Ron call out behind him.

Pasha grinned evilly, sending chills down his spine. "_Avada Kedavra_!"

Blinding green light shot out of her wand, speeding towards him. He stood in shock, unable to move as the jet of light came towards him. Then the world went black.

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It hurt. His whole body ached with pain. He could not see anything; everything was dark. He wondered whether he was dead; if this was how he was going to spend the rest of eternity – in darkness and pain.

Suddenly, he heard something. It was difficult to make out at first; the fuzziness in his head refused to clear, but the voice soon became clearer. Someone was calling him.

_Harry_

He tried to call out, to say something, but he could not.

Harry 

The voice was clearer now, and this time it was accompanied with a dim light. It was only a tiny speck in the distance, getting closer and closer. The sphere of light soon became larger, as if he was looking down a tunnel. And still it advanced closer… and closer… and closer, until it enveloped him.

"Harry!"

"Where am I?" he asked groggily. The light in the room hurt his eyes. He lifted his hand up to shade them.

"Harry, oh Harry, we thought… we thought you were…" he recognised Hermione's voice from somewhere on his right.

Harry finally opened his eyes and saw he was lying on a bed in the Hospital Wing. What had happened? The last thing he remembered was Pasha pointing a wand at him and … she had used the Killing Curse! Then why was he still here?

"What happened?" he asked weakly, sitting up.

"She… she used the Avada Kedavra," said Hermione disbelievingly.

"So… why didn't I –?"

"I don't know. Dumbledore did some kind of weird magic and you woke up," explained Ron.

Harry very dimly remembered the dark place he had been in, and the light that had saved him. And the voice. He realised now who the voice belonged to: Dumbledore. Had he died? Had Dumbledore brought him back to life?

"Where is he now?"

"He went to check on something. Pasha, I think."

"What happened to her?" he was still shaken from the memory of her pointing her wand at him.

"I don't know, Dumbledore wouldn't tell us. All we know is that she's being locked up somewhere. After the spell hit you, we thought you were..." Hermione trailed off. "And then all these Death Eaters appeared, and Dementors - I don't know how they got inside - but then Mrs. Norris attacked her for some reason, and she came back to normal again."

Suddenly, Dumbledore burst into the room. His eyes were not filled with his usual amusement, and his slivery beard was messy. He came to the foot of Harry's bed and looked down at him through his half-moon glasses.

"How is she now?" Harry asked.

Dumbledore's eyes filled with sadness as he answered. "I'm sorry, Harry, but Pasha is gone."

Harry felt his stomach drop, and it was not because of the aching in his body.

"But Professor, didn't you say she was still in the castle?" asked Hermione.

"Yes, she is; she is being guarded by the members of the Order."

"But then why did you say -?"

"Because, Harry, she is Voldemort."

Harry was stunned. He sat frozen, letting his words sink in. _She is Voldemort._ What was that supposed to mean? How could Pasha _be _Voldemort?

Dumbledore, sensing his confusion, answered. "She was a Horcrux. I do not know how, for I do not know all the secrets of the Dark Arts, but I suspect that Voldemort encased a fragment of his soul in her, and spelled it to lie, dormant, until his soul was... activated - seems the best word.

Harry was still confused. So Voldemort put a bit of his soul in Pasha, and then when he died his soul was 'activated' and then what happened to her soul? Harry asked Dumbledore, and he replied, his eyes still sad.

"I'm sorry, Harry, I know how much you cared about her – but… she is gone. She is still here in a physical sense, but her soul; it was… pushed out," said Dumbledore, trying to find the right words, "by Voldemort's soul; for two souls cannot exist in one body."

"But Professor, if she was Voldemort from the time he died, how could she remember all that stuff that Voldemort couldn't possibly know?"

"The mind and soul are separate things," Dumbledore explained calmly, "Pasha's mind and body were still the same, however, it was Voldemort's soul inside her. The soul is not our memories, or how we act, or how we think. The soul is our character; like Voldemort's hunger for power, his enjoyment of torture."

Harry sat silently as he tried to get his head around what Dumbledore was telling him. His mind was numb to the implications. Pasha was gone. Forever. He felt a lump in his throat rise. He swallowed back the tears. But soon, his sadness turned to anger. Voldemort had used her. Voldemort had killed her. He would pay.

Dumbledore studied Harry's reaction, peering at him calmly through his half-moon glasses. He expected him to say not to do anything rash, or not to react too quickly. But what he said instead surprised Harry. "I think… it is time to fulfil the prophecy."

Harry nodded determinately. He plucked his wand off the small bedside table next to him and swung his legs out the side of the bed. His body ached all over, but he ignored the pain. Hermione looked at him worriedly as he swayed on the spot for a while, before following Dumbledore out.

He led them down into the bowels of the castle, past various classrooms until they came to a stop in front of a dark wooden door. They stepped inside the large room. About a dozen members of the Order – including Tonks, Lupin and Mad-Eye Moody – surrounded a huddled form in the middle, all pointing their wands at the firgure.

"Harry!" Pasha cried out when she saw him. "Harry! It me, Pasha! Tell them to let me go, Harry."

"Don't move," growled Moody.

Harry walked forward, his heart thudding, nearing the ring of people. Pasha was on the ground – helpless.

"You are the only one who can do it, Harry. You must fulfil the prophecy," urged Dumbledore.

Harry gripped his wand, his knuckles paling to a deathly white. Could he do this? Could he really kill Pasha? _No, not Pasha – Voldemort,_ he corrected himself. He had to do this.

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I know, pretty confusing. If you want me to explain more clearly, please tell me so I can include it in the next chapter. 

Thanks soooooooo much to:

**rkkgirl12, Danica01, pearlwalrus, BLACKvWIDOW**


	16. Chapter 16

Disclaimer: Own nothing!

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Chapter 16**

Harry gripped his wand tightly. The smooth wood of the wand was slick with sweat. Pasha crouched huddled in front of him, calling his name. Each time she spoke, his heart twanged with an unbearable pain. _This is Voldemort,_ he told himself. _It is not Pasha, Pasha is gone._ Those three words taunted him, echoing again and again in his head: _Pasha is gone, Pasha is gone._

"Harry!" Pasha sobbed, "It's me, Pasha! Don't do this Harry, please, don't do this."

_It's not Pasha, it's not Pasha, it's not Pasha, _he chanted to himself.

"Harry, please don't do this."

_It's not Pasha, it's not Pasha._

"C'mon boy, what are you waiting for?" growled Moody, his usually swiveling eye fixed on Pasha.

Harry gulped. Sweat dotted his brow. His hands and knees trembled as he slowly raised his wand. He _knew _it wasn't Pasha, he _knew _it was Voldemort, he _knew _she was never coming back, but he kept getting the odd feeling that she wasn't gone. Gone from this body, maybe, but not gone from this world. He could not explain it. He just _knew,_ somehow. Maybe it was because of the connection they had - because she was his soul mate. Pasha looked up at him, her big, beautiful eyes pleading. Even though he constantly told himself that this was Voldemort, he still couldn't help feeling that pang of love whenever he saw her. It looked too much like her, sounded too much like her. Voldemort's plan had worked: he couldn't do it.

_There has to be another way,_ he thought desperately, _not this, anything but this._

He was suddenly struck with an idea. It was like a light bulb suddenly flashing in his head.

"Sir!" he said, turning to Dumbledore, "where are you keeping the Dementors?"

Dumbledore's face looked startled for a second, but soon turned tounderstanding as he quickly caught on to what Harry was meaning. "They are in the Astronomy Tower. The Ministry will be coming to collect them in a few minutes, best hurry."

Harry thanked him, and raced out of the room. He charged up the staircases and out of the dungeons. He felt the chilling effect of the Dementors presence even before he reached the Tower. It was like a bucket of ice cold water being poured over him, chilling him to the bone. He heard the scream in his head – his mother's scream – but he forced it out of his mind. _Not now, _he thought desperately, _can't black out now. Pasha needs me._

There was a black haired, pink-faced witch he dimly remembered meeting in his fifth year when the Order had come to escort him to Grimmauld Place. She stepped protectively in front of the silver stepladder leading up to the room.

"Ah ah ah," she said, "can't go up there. Dementors."

He breathed a sigh of relief that the ministry hadn't taken them away yet. "I need to get up there," he said hurriedly, "Dumbledore sent me."

She peered at him suspiciously before noticing the lightening-bolt shaped scar on his forehead, and stepped aside. "Be careful," she warned.

He nodded his thanks, gulped, and clambered up into the room. All the squashy armchairs and tables had been pushed to the side of the room. The ever-present heavy, sickly smell of perfume was gone, along with the fire. The atmosphere in the room was frighteningly cold, and mist fogged the windows. About a dozen Dementors were standing in the room, but each turned its cloaked head towards him as he entered.

The coldness was overwhelming, and he fought to keep his consciousness. Before they could advance on him, he raised his wand warningly and spoke. "I have come to offer you a soul."

The Dementors paused. Their rattling breath continued to suck the warmth out of the room, and his happiness.

"I need one of you," he continued.

To his surprise, they listened. One of them glided foward. Harry nodded, uncertain at what to do next. What were you supposed to say to a Dementor?

"Uh... follow me."

He turned and slid down the ladder. He could hear the swhish of cloth and the rattling breath of the Dementor behind him as he made his way into the dungeons. He held his wand at the ready - just in case.

Finally, he reached the dark wooden door in the dimly lit corridor. He pushed it open and entered, his eyes settling on Pasha immediately.

"Her," he said grimly, pointing her out to the Dementor.

Pasha's eyes widened and gasped. "Harry, what are you doing?"

The Dementor glided foward, pulling its hood back. Grey mottled skin stretched over its empty eye sockets, and the gaping hole of a mouth was wide open.

"Hary, no! You can't - "

The Dementor gripped her face firmly with rotting hands as she struggled. It lowered it's face towards her... Harry turned. he couldn't bear to watch. An unbearable pain shot through him as Pasha cried for him to help her. He balled his hands into fists as he tried to block out her screams. This was the only way...

Suddenly, the room was plunged into silence. Harry turned around, dreading what he would see. Pasha was once again huddled on the ground, but this time, she was silent. He rushed over to her and crouched down. Her usually bright, golden eyes were dull. Empty.

"Pasha?" he whispered hoarsely.

She stared blankly ahead, looking at him, but not quite seeing him. A lump formed in his throat as he gently squeezed her shoulders. He stood suddenly as he felt someone standing behind him. Dumbledore looked at him with a sad expression on his face.

"You did the right thing."

Harry nodded numbly._Then why do I feel so bad? _he added silently.

"Sir," he said, suddenly thinking of something. "Why was she acting like herself and not Voldemort?"

"Because of this." Dumbledore held up a fine gold chain he recognised Pasha had been wearing. "Voldemort spelled it to attract the person in which his soul lay. In this case - Pasha. His soul was already there. The only thing missing was his mind, so in order to fully become Voldemort, this was needed."

"So that necklace is his mind?"

"More like memories. But I guess you could say it was his mind, as it is our memories - our pasts'- that define who we are."

"And when Mrs. Norris attacked her," said Harry, remembering what Hermione had told him, "it broke and she went back to normal."

"Yes, but not _comepletey_ herself; Voldemort's soul was still inside her."

Harry glanced down at Pasha, who was still staring blankly into space. "Professor, is there a chance that maybe her soul isn't gone?"

Dumbledore shook his head sadly. "It is very unlikely."

Harry nodded. He still couldn't quite shake off the feeling that Pasha wasn't truly gone. _But I'm just kidding myself_, he said silently. _How could she possibly still be here?_

A loud meow behind him shook him out of his thoughts. It was Mrs. Norris. He wondered - without much interest - at why she was here. And why she had attacked Pasha earlier on. Had she somehow known Pasha was Voldemort? Was it some kind of a sixth sense of an animal?

Harry tried to smother his yawn - without success.

"You must be exhausted, Harry, after what you've been through today. You should be off to your dormitory. I suspect your friends would be waiting for you."

Harry checked his watch - 2am. He thanked Dumbledore quietly, bade goodnight to the rest of the Order, and started up towards the Gryffindor common room. Trailing wearily up the stairs, he tried to push away the odd nagging feeling - the one that said Pasha was not gone. _I'm just getting my hopes up, _he thought, dejected. But as he reached the seventh floor, the feeling grew stronger still.

He knew he shouldn't do this; he knew he shouldn't get his hopes up, only to have them crushed again, but he could no resist turning the corner and following down the corridor. He reached a blank stretch of wall, which he knew contained a hidden door - the Room of Requirement. He paced three times in front of it, concentrating as hard as he could. _I need something to find Pasha... I need to find her soul... I need to help her._

When he stopped and glanced up, a cherry red door greeted him. He reached out towards the gold door knob, heart racing, and slowly pushed it open.

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A/N: Sorry about another cliff-hanger! Its just because of the big finale coming up, gotta make it dramatic! 


	17. Chapter 17

Sorry about the long wait! Here's the new chapter. Happy reading!

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**Chapter 17**

The doorknob to the Room of Requirement was slick with sweat as Harry pushed it open, holding his breath. But as he peered in, all the wind left him in one, big, defeated whoosh. The small, dark, broom closet sized room was hopelessly empty. Just like Pasha. He continued to stare into the depths of the darkness for what seemed like hours, willing it to give him something. _Anything._

"You may want to try opening to door _wider_," said a voice behind him.

Harry spun around and saw that it was Nearly Headless Nick, his ghostly white body floating up and down.

"What do you mean, _wider_?"

"Well, I'm no expert, but I've been here long enough to know that sometimes the Room hides things from you if it is not sure it is the solution."

"The _Room_ is not sure it will work?" Harry repeated skeptically. "You mean the Room is _alive_?"

"Just open it," snapped Nick.

Harry complied, and as he pushed the door wider, light spilled into the room, illuminating its contents. In the corner, hidden in the shadows, was a thick, leather-bound book. It looked old, and the cover was untitled. As he came closer and bent down to pick it up, the pages started turning of its own accord, as if an invisible wind was rustling it. Then, as abruptly as it had started, it lay still. Harry hungrily tried to read it immediately, but the letters were impossible to decipher in the dark. He strode quickly out of the room, eyes still fixed on the page.

As the flickering torchlight from the bracket on the other side of the corridor illuminated the yellowed pages, Harry began to read avidly. It seemed to be some kind of ritual, and it looked simple enough. At the very top of the page, in loopy handwriting, was the title _Soul Exchange._

_Soul Exchange, _Harry repeated to himself. _How was that supposed to help Pasha? _She had no soul to exchange _with._ Was this why the Room had hidden it from him? Because it wasn't going to work?

He closed the book, remembering the page number, and hurried off along the corridor towards the dormitory. Climbing through the portrait hole, he spotted Hermione and Ron, both in armchairs by the fire. They jumped as he entered and rushed over to him.

"Harry! What happened? Is Pasha - I mean, You-Know-Who -?" Hermione asked hurriedly.

"Voldemort's gone," said Harry flatly, his voice devoid of any emotion.

They were both silent, letting it sink in. Voldemort was truly gone. There was a strong sense of de ja vu, but they knew that this time, he was gone. Never to wreck havoc amognst the wizarding world again.

"So is Pasha -?" Ron began.

"She's alive."

"But Harry, doesn't that mean You-Know-Who's still alive?"

Harry shook his head and began to let them in on all that had happened tonight. Ron and Hermione listened on in silence, with Hermione gasping at points in his monologue, but being shushed by Ron. When Harry finally finished, he felt a wave of tiredness wash over him, and thought about his soft, warm bed upstairs. His thoughts suddenly snapped back to the heavy book still clutched in his hand, and he hurridly slammed it onto the table, making Ron and Hermione jump.

"Harry, what -?"

"Here!" he exclaimed, finding the page.

The two cocked their heads to the side to read it, and Hermione let out a gasp.

"Oh! But this is ... Harry, this is Dark magic!"

Harry frowned. "Dark -?"

"Yes, Dark magic. It's against wizarding law to take away someone's soul."

"But it already _is _Pasha's soul. All we have to do is figure out where it is."

"You don't know where it is?" Ron asked in disbelief. "Well that's just peachy, isn't it? We can put up missing posters: _Have you seen this soul?_"

Hermione gave Ron a glare that quieted him at once, then turned back to Harry. "Do you have _any _idea where it might be?"

Harry shook his head, the flaming embers of hope that he could save Pasha dieing down. He racked his brain for any clue of where Pasha's soul might be. Suddenly, for the second time that day, a light flashed in his headlikea bright spark of inspiration.

"Harry, what is it? You know where it is?" asked Hermione, seeing the look on his face.

He swung his eyes, now bright, onto Hermione's equally hopeful face and uttered one word. "Mrs. Norris."

"Of course," whispered Hermione.

"Mrs Norris? What are you on about?" asked Ron, looking from Harry back to Hermione.

"That would explain her strange behaviour! But -" she frowned. " -why would it go in there? I mean, _Mrs Norris?_"

Ron, clearly not getting what they were talking about, threw up his hands in fustration.

"Don't you see, Ron?" said Hermione, turning towards him. "Pasha's soul was transferred to Mrs Norris somehow. _That's _why she's taken a liking to Harry all of a sudden, and that's why she attacked You-Know-Who when he was in Pasha's body. Because Mrs Norris _was _her."

Ron still looked skeptical at this theory. "But why Mrs Norris? I mean, souls can go into objects, can't they? Like the Horcruxes? So why didn't it - oh, I don't know - go into a pot or something?"

"Exactly what I wanted to know," said Harry, getting up and picking up the heavy book.

"Where are you going?" asked Ron.

"Dumbledore's office. I'm going to see if he know's anything about this."

Tucking the book under his arm, he clambered clumsily out the portrait hole. Ron and Hermione followed behind. He raced along the corridor, turned a sharp corner, and was soon facing the stone gargoyle that guarded the entrance to Dumbledore's office. It had been repaired after Pasha had obliviated it into rubble, intent on getting to Dumbledore. That was the night she had found out the truth about her past; about how Voldemort had killed her parents and erased her memory.

"You go," said Hermione as the gargoyle leapt aside at the password, "we'll wait here for you."

Harry nodded, and stepped onto the stone staircase. Before he knew it, he was facing the wooden door that led into Dumbledore's office. He knocked loudly, impatient with anticipation.

"Come in," Dumbledore's voice said from within.

Harry entered and saw Dumbledore sitting behind his deskm stroking Fawkes the Phoenix who was perched on a pile of papers. The bird's lovely red and gold plumage stood out amognst the white sheets of parchment strewn about the desk.

"Professor," Harry blurted out at once, "can a human soul go into an animal?"

Dumbledore seemed to be anticipating a question like this, and did not look startled. Instead, he answered Harry in his usual calm manner. "It can go into objects, so I do not see why not."

Harry nodded and continued. "Professor... um, is it possible that Pasha's soul could have gone into Mrs Norris?"

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows. "Now what makes you think that, Harry?"

Harry began to explain Mrs Norris' strange behaviour ever since Voldemort's 'death'. When Harry finished telling him his theory, there was a silence in which Dumbledore studied him through his half-moon glasses. Harry shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot under his bright blue gaze.

"It _is _possible," said Dumbledore after a while. "but have you thought about this: why Mrs Norris?"

Harry had thought about that on the way up here, and he had an answer prepared. "I think it had something to do with her Felimorphis ability. You know, since Mrs Norris is a cat and all, her soul might have gone into something similar."

Dumbledore nodded. "Yes, it is a possible theory," he said again. "Since animals do not have souls, Pasha's soul would have gone into the nearest living thing, which just happened to be Mrs Norris. Yes, yes, well done, Harry."

Harry felt elated again, his theory now having been confirmed by Dumbledore, and went on to place the book on Dumbledore's desk. Fawkes ruffled his feathers as he shuffled aside to make room for it.

"Where did you get this?" asked Dumbledore as Harry showed him the page that could bring Pasha back.

"Room of Requirement."

Dumbledore's eyes scrolled down the page as heread it, frowning. "Harry, you do realise that this is very Dark magic."

"I know," he said, determined to do anything to bring Pasha back. "And I'm gonna do it, even if it _is_Dark magic, to bring her back."

Dumbledore nodded gravely. "I understand how you feel, but are you willing to sacrifice yourself?"

"Huh?" asked Harry, startled.

"You have not read it all?"

Harry leaned in, trying to read upside down. He had been too excited at theprospect of bringing Pasha back that he had neglected to read the whole page. But now, standing here in Dumbledore's office, reading the book upside down, he realised that this would cost more than a few ingrediants. At the bottom of the page, in tiny letters, were the words: _human soul needed._

Harry looked back up at Dumbledore with wide eyes. "I - I didn't know -"

Now he knew the true reason why the Room had hidded it from him._This w_as why. Was he willing to sacrifice himself to save Pasha? To bring her soul back to her rightful body? There was no doubt in his mind that he loved her. She was his soul mate. He thought back to all they had experienced together; the laughs and the tears. So much in such a short amount of time. And in that instant, he knew he had to do this. As much as he wanted to live, he knew that he could not live without her. Just as his parents had done before him, he would give his life for the one he loved.

Dumbledore, seeing the look on his face go from shock to determination, plucked a single feather from Fawkes' magnificent tail. "You will be needing this."

Harry took it, his expression grave. He picked up the book, tucked it back under his arm, and left the room. Out in the corridor, Ron and Hermione were murmuring quietly to each other. They looked up as he came back from behind the stone gargoyle.

"What did he say?" asked Ron.

And in that dimly lit corridor, between his two best friends, he began to tell them. Hermione ended up in sobs, begging for him not to do this. But Harry had made up his mind. With his decision still echoing down the corridor for anyone to hear, he began to make his way down to the dungeon.

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Omg, I AM evil, aren't I? Another cliffie! Sorry, bad habit of mine. And anyway, the story's nearly finished, so you won't have to put up with much more for long. 


	18. Chapter 18

I'm back from the dead! Sorry it took so long. Just lost my inspiration I guess...

But I'm back! This is the very last chapter, so I hope you enjoy.

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**Chapter 18 **

Harry strode down the darkened corridor, a paralyzed Mrs. Norris under one arm and the book in the other. His heart beat faster as he drew closer to the dungeons. Each step was bringing him closer to saving Pasha - to Harry's death. He stumbled on the last flight of stairs, almost dropping Mrs Norris' stiff body. Finally, he came upon the door. Slowly but surely, he swung it open, and his eyes immediately strayed towards the huddled figure in the corner. He hesitated, and then strode forward. _I'm doing the right thing, _he told himself. He carefully placed Mrs. Norris next to Pasha, whose face was hidden in shadow behind a curtain of tumbling curls. He did not bother to peer in and take one last look at her; he could not bear to see those empty eyes. The only images he wanted to have in his last moments were memories of her joyous laughter; her secret smile; her radiant, golden eyes.

Harry put the book down on the stone-flagged floor, knelt, and flicked it to the right page. He looked back up at Pasha, huddled in the corner; at Mrs. Norris, stiff and unmoving. He swallowed past the lump in his throat. His knees shook uncontrollably, and he felt ashamed. _I'm doing this to save Pasha. It doesn't matter what happens to me. _He forced his eyes back down to the book and skimmed them down the page. With a deep breath he stood, taking his wand out at the same time. Uncertainly, he stepped forward towards the person who had changed the course of his life forever.

Harry muttered the strange incantation, stumbling over the first bit. His wand began emitting a soft glow, which slowly grew brighter and brighter. He chanced a glance at Pasha, but she showed no signs of acknowledgment. Leaning down, he tapped the tip of his wand lightly on Mrs. Norris, who glowed slightly, then to Pasha. His wand left a trail of golden light, strangely reminiscent of the golden thread in the graveyard with Voldemort. He tapped Pasha lightly, and she too emitted a faint glow. Now it was his turn. The wand began drawing closer and closer to his heart, leaving a trail of light in the air that linked him to Pasha. It was close to him now, only a few inches away.

"I wouldn't do that, if I were you."

Harry jumped, and accidentally let the wand leap dangerously close to him. He turned. It was Nearly Headless Nick.

"Wh – what?" he began.

"I heard you, back up in the corridor, talking to your friends. I couldn't let a chance like this pass."

His eyes widened, horrified. "You want to watch me - "

"Of course not!" said Nick indignantly. "What I'm meaning is that your life has just barely started. Don't go throwing it away. And what would this world do without Harry Potter!"

"Voldemort is gone," was all Harry could think to say. He had no idea where Nick was heading. Or why he had come.

"Yes, yes, but don't you see, Harry? You're a symbol – an idol – for everyone's security. Without you, people would think that Voldemort would come back."

"But he can't." He was getting slightly peeved. What was he doing here anyway? "Nick, you don't understand. I have to do this." He looked over at Pasha, and in a whisper, "I love her."

"Exactly. And you want to be with her, don't you? How will you do that if you're worse than dead?"

Harry sighed. "What do want me to do then, huh? Get someone else to sacrifice themselves for me?"

Nick's silence answered his question, and with a jolt, Harry realised his true agenda for coming here tonight. "But... why?"

"I have been here for a long time. Too long. At first I was afraid to die – which is why I became what I am. Not many get the chance to move on after they have made this choice. So when I overheard you tonight... I took advantage of the opportunity. Harry, let me go in your place. This is my want."

Harry was speechless. The wand was warm in his hand by now, the rope of light hovering in the air, waiting to be touched to the soul that would activate the spell and bring Pasha back to herself. After a moment Harry nodded, looking Nick in the eye. Nick's face relaxed.

"Thank you," Harry said.

"I should be the one thanking you," Nick replied.

Without another word, Harry brought the wand closer to Nick's pearly white body, hovering a few inches above the ground. He expected the wand to go right through him, but when it reached him, he glowed, just like Pasha and Mrs. Norris. From there Harry carried his wand back to Mrs. Norris' stiff body lying motionless on ground. As soon as if touched her, the golden threads of light linking the three glowed brighter and brighter until it nearly blinded him. It formed a triangle between them, and another white light was beginning to form in the middle.

Harry was on the outside of the triangle, close to Pasha and Nick. He watched as the circle in the middle began to swirl dizzyingly. Reaching his hand into the pocket, he pulled out the phoenix feather given to him by Dumbledore, and tossed it into the centre of the swirling vortex of light. It began to expand, swelling bigger and bigger, swirling all the time. Waves of heat rolled off it, growing so hot that Harry had to step back and watch, horrified, as it swallowed up Pasha, Mrs. Norris, and Nearly Headless Nick. He closed his eyes.

It was like a light switch flicking off. The swirling light was extinguished abruptly, plunging the room into darkness. Spots of light dotted his vision, forcing him to feel his way around the room. There was a scuffling sound from the other side, and he froze.

"Pasha?" he called out uncertainly. This _had_ to have worked.

After a moments pause, "Harry?"

It was like music to his ears to hear her voice again. His heart leapt and he grinned foolishly. She was back.

"Pasha!"

His eyes were slowly gaining back their vision, and he could just make out Pasha's slim silhouette upright and standing and gloriously alive. He rushed towards her and drew her into a fierce embrace.

"Harry…what happened?" Her voice was croaky, but Harry had never heard a sweeter sound.

"A lot," was all he said, and he felt another surge of joy as she hugged him back.

They stood in the darkness, holding one another, neither one willing to let go. Harry was the first to step back.

"Pasha, I don't think I've ever told you before, and I've never said this to anyone, and…" Harry knew he was rambling, but he plowed on. "I – I love you."

There was a painful silence that followed, and Harry felt his face heating up. Fool! How could he ever have convinced himself that she felt the same way about him as he did her? And then go to announce it to her?

He prepared himself for a harsh retaliation. Or perhaps she would break it to him gently, telling him that she was just not ready for a "serious" relationship. But instead he felt her hand touch his shoulder, and then a moment later her warm lips met his. Her arms twined around him again, and in that instance, they understood each other more fully than ever before. They broke apart a while later, his breathing ragged.

"I love you too," Pasha responded, her voice sincere.

Harry opened his mouth, but a loud 'meow' interrupted him. They turned to see Mrs. Norris, amber eyes ablaze. They watched her totter out of the dungeon, probably to tell Filch about students out of bed after hours.

"We should go back up," Harry suggested.

"Lets," agreed Pasha.

Still holding hands, they made their way up the stairs. Harry felt like he was the bravest person in the world right now, and with Pasha at his side, he felt as if he could face the world and overcome anything.

* * *

Thanks all, for being so encouraging throughout the story, and the helpful comments. Not the greatest ending, I know. They've never been my strong point. Hope you enjoyed reading this story as much as I've enjoyed writing it.

Thanks again!

Love, Mouse


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